From the Unknown
by Metal Harbinger
Summary: A man wakes up with no memory of who he is or his past life. Finding himself caught in the middle of a brewing conflict that threatens to tear a nation apart, he sets out in search of answers while encountering his fair share of shady characters and unusual happenings in the Midwestern Wasteland. Because war, war never changes.
1. Prologue: War Never Changes

From the Unknown

by Metal Harbinger

Prologue: War Never Changes

 _War. War never changes._

 _When atomic fire consumed the landscape humanity was sent retreating to the safety of the great underground vaults. Those who survived took the knowledge of the old world with them, in turn passing it down to the generations that followed._

 _When the vaults opened their inhabitants entered a hostile new world._

 _What had once been the American Midwest was now reduced to an open grave site littered with the ruins of once great cities, plagued with raiders, savage tribals, super mutants and other horrors sired from the fallout of a long ago war. Famine, plague and warfare lurked around every corner and with little resources and even few prospects the emerging survivors seemed destined to follow the same fate from those before them._

 _Yet even in the darkest of days humankind is a stubborn creature and all would have been lost had it not been for one man determined to bring hope to those living in the death grip of fear._

 _This man was George Washington Stanton._

 _Inspired by the tales of the great leaders of yesteryear, he alone embarked upon an ambitious quest to restore order to a hostile land, spreading the old world values of democracy, liberty and the rule of law. It was through his efforts a loose confederation of small city states would unite to form a new nation that would rise from the ashes like a phoenix._

 _This nation was the New Midwest Commonwealth._

 _Under his leadership the scarred landscape slowly began to heal: towns being rebuilt, resources being reclaimed, raiders and other threats being beaten back, the population growing as tribes and villages were assimilated. The NMC also proved its might as a regional military power, beating back both an already weakened Enclave and a Brotherhood of Steel that had long ago fallen into decline. It was a golden age of enlightenment and progress that would last for well over 30 years, only to be squandered following the Founding Father's passing._

 _Lacking the brilliance, experience and iron will of his predecessor, the new President Thomas Jefferson Hadley would lose many of the Commonwealth's gains through a series of embarrassing military blunders and would lead to a very public falling out with the leader of the NMC's military forces, General Abraham Barca, who believed only one who had proven themselves on the battlefield was worthy of being called a leader._

 _With a loyal inner circle and support from desperate and dissatisfied locals, General Barca would lead a successful takeover of the NMC's capital Steel City (formerly Chicago), coming within inches of capturing President Hadley, who would escape up north to the former Madison, Wisconsin to reestablish his rule. It is only thanks to technology confiscated from their defeated enemies they have managed to stall the ambitious general's advance into the northern territories._

 _The southern territories firmly under his control, General Barca embarked upon a brutal campaign of hawkish imperialism, expanding the Southern Midwest Commonwealth's reach into expanses of Iowa, Kentucky, and Ohio, slaughtering all who would oppose him._

 _Amid the stalemate a third faction arrived: born from the Scarface tribe, a criminal organization now known as the Scarface Syndicate. Having originally come to reclaim their ancestral homeland and expand their operations, the cunning criminals saw an opportunity to profit from the ongoing civil war by ensuring neither side could best the other._

 _The year is now 2294, eight years having passed since the first shots were fired. The nation remains divided as both sides struggle with the perpetual threat of super mutants, raiders and other encroaching threats of the wasteland. Aside from a few sporadic skirmishes, a sense of normality, if not peace, has fallen over the land as people struggle to survive in a time of war._

 _But it is only the calm before the storm._

 _While Barca continues with his campaign of aggressive expansionism, the NMC's current President Frank Spector struggles to rebuild his forces and restore the people's faith in him as a strong, effective leader. The Scarface Syndicate meanwhile profits from the simmering conflict by selling their services to both sides while preventing either from gaining a decisive advantage. Through it all, there are those watching from the shadows with their own motives in mind, waiting for both sides to gradually wear each other down. Who they are and what their motives are no one knows._

 _As it has been with any major conflict throughout recorded history there are always those caught in the middle, unwitting pawns in a game much larger than they can ever anticipate. It is their move that tips the crucial balance of power in favor of the eventual winner._

 _Because war, war never changes._

 **Author's Note:** Well I'm back and I'm going to take another go at attempting a "Fallout" fic.

Doing a "Fallout" fic has always been high on my 'to do' list and after some period of struggle I'm hoping the pieces are finally beginning to fall into place for a piece that I can work on and not end up deleting somewhere down along the line.

Hopefully I can keep trucking along with this reboot so as always read and review. Once again this is Metal Harbinger saying SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME! \m/


	2. Fire and Pain

Ch. 1: Fire and Pain

A small crackle in the distance and a soothing warmth to follow.

Slowly I flutter my eyes open only to squeeze them shut a second later.

A blinding orange light engulfs all and with it comes the pain thundering in my skull. It is so intense I open my mouth to let out a strangled cry, yet only a weak croak escapes.

"Dis one vas a werty fider. Let his liff faus starken de Bloodclaws!" I heard a voice call out, one booming with pride, followed by the excited cheers of an unseen crowd.

Someone else was nearby. I needed to know who was there and what was going on.

I willed my eyes open and was again met by the blinding orange light, its jagged ends dancing in different directions.

A campfire.

With a labored effort I tried to shake off the dizziness and went to stretch my arms out, yet I couldn't. I looked down to find my wrists bound together by some raggedy old rope, colored a dark shade of crimson along with my right hand. An itchiness came over me and I wanted to scratch my hand, but I couldn't.

What is going on here?

My vision slowly adjusted to the light and it was then I looked to my right and saw a vaguely distinctive shape lying next to me and with that came a rancid new stench that made my stomach quiver. When I saw the crimson liquid at the opposite end I could feel my heart racing and when I saw the figure's head missing my whole body jumped.

"Doc, look! He's awake," a different voice hissed, one that was practically right on top of me.

I turned to find a freckle-faced young man kneeling next to me with his wrists also bound in front of him. His pale skin was covered in bruises and his busted wire-rimmed glasses still hung on the bridge of his nose. I didn't know who he was, yet he hovered over me almost protectively.

I heard the dragging of dirt and looked ahead to find an older woman crawling on her knees and elbows toward me with her wrists also bound. Behind her was another man in a strange blue jumpsuit with his left arm capped off just beneath his elbow by a bloodied bandage.

"Thank goodness," the woman gasped, her eyes barely visible beneath the tangled mess of white hair, "I'm glad to see you are still alive."

My eyes were more focused on the black cross on her shoulder.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? They're going to catch you," the broken glasses man spoke towards another unseen person, lurching forward so I could see the same kind of jumpsuit worn by his one-armed friend.

"I ain't stayin' here and letting those damned freaks make me part of their stew, or whatever the fuck they plan on doing with us," the other being spoke, a man in a sullied black pinstripe suit with a prominent _'S'_ carved into the side of his face. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting' the fuck outta here," he spoke and it was then I saw the glint from the metal blade as he attempted to cut through his binds.

And then there was a flash of red followed by the cool sensation of blood spattering on my face as the black-suited man fell with his head split open.

"Fool owslandr!" the taunting voice of a shrouded giant called from above, the man standing tall with a bloodied ax in hand and flanked by three more fellows all covered from head to toe in dried blood and wearing nothing more than animal furs.

I watched in silence as the three tribals shouted to my companions in an unknown language while brandishing some crudely crafted spears, pointing them just inches away from the woman's face. I wanted to help her out, but with every movement I made my muscles screamed at me so loud I found I curled into a ball just to drown them out.

And then the giant shouted something to his subordinates to halt their advance, delivering a brutal backhand to the bald man at his left when he continued growling at the one-armed man. A tense silence fell into place with only the crackle of flames heard above all else before he pointed his ax at me.

"Him!"

Before I could react there was a sharp pain in my side and the wind was gone from my lungs. The pain was replaced by numbness and I couldn't tell I had been yanked to my feet until I was looking into the giant's dark eyes. Even in the shade of the horned helmet he wore, his dark orbs burned through like a wildfire in the night.

"Du warst a stark fider. Der geest is groot," the giant spoke to me in a deep, powerful voice before the corners of his mouth curled into wide grin that showed a mouthful of sharpened teeth, "Du wirst serve us vell!"

The sadism dripped from the man's every word and I again opened my mouth to speak, yet only the same strangled croak came out before he turned to his men and grumbled something to them in their weird language.

Weightlessness followed as my eyes returned to the dirt, the sound of dirt being disturbed barely heard over the crackle of fire, the hollow clatter of bone on bone, and the murmurs of whispered voices until a narrow path widened and I was brought to a halt before a small pedestal mostly colored a dark shade of crimson and forced to my knees.

More of those people stood before us, men and women, all clad in furs and various other macabre trinkets with weapons in hand ranging from spears to axes to clubs. They had been conversing among themselves until I was brought into view and then a deafening silence fell over them as their eyes focused solely upon me.

The giant turned and addressed the gathered mass in their native tongue, his booming voice echoing as he gestured to the nighttime sky with his arms proudly outstretched.

Wait – he wasn't pointing to the heavens...

He was pointing to the death surrounding us.

Hanging from the dead trees before him were charred, withering husks shaped just like...people...all splayed out in twisted poses of agony, their genders left indeterminable from all the damage sustained.

Lying beneath the macabre ornaments was a pile of headless bodies that had been stripped naked and positioned atop tall spikes around us were a number of severed heads staring vacantly into space.

Strung up nearby was an older man whose innards had been torn out through a massive incision in his abdomen and I think I had an idea of where they went when I could see a dog chewing on something long and wet.

They were sickening sights like no other, a testament to the cruelty of their captors. With the position I was in right now I needed no further explanation as to what could follow.

They were looking to add me among the ranks of those unfortunate souls.

The nameless man's words whipped his people into a frenzy and they began chanting some tribal gibberish with their weapons raised high in the air. He stood quiet and let them carry on with their chant before returning his attention to me and pointing his ax at me with a blade that looked to be crafted from bone, at which point his followers were silenced.

"Now...die," the man whispered to me before I felt another boot striking me in my lower back and then I was lying face down in the mud, blinded by murky water I could only blink away. I didn't have time to cry out in disgust as someone grabbed the back of my shirt and slammed my head down onto the bloody stump, wincing as my jaw nearly snapped under the pressure.

"For de glory of de Bloodclaws!" I heard the giant cry out and his followers shout back in unison as the salty tears stung at the corners of my eyes. This was it. I was going to join those other poor souls strung up like an ornament for the crows to peck away at.

All I could do was hope for a quick end.

And then there was an ear-splitting rattle followed by screams of pain.

"Quick! Take 'em down!" a man's voice called out, followed by more loud rattles and deep booms.

Acting on pure instinct I rolled onto my side and found myself face to face with the giant, his dark eyes staring back at me after his chest had been torn apart by gunfire. It was a sight that chilled me to the bone and if that wasn't enough there was a wet splat as another body hit the ground in front of me, that of a kid who could have been no more than sixteen, wearing a wolf's pelt like a hood. More would soon fall like dominoes as the bullets flew above me and I could feel the warm blood splashing onto me like a downpour.

I looked over the dead boy's crumpled form to see more shadows darting back and forth at a jarring pace, illuminated only by the flashes of gunfire as the campfire lay dying in the carnage. The bodies were continuing to fall at an alarming rate and I continued to watch in morbid fascination until I felt something hard strike me in the side of the head and I was again left on my back.

My vision became a blur and it felt like an eternity before things started coming back into focus and I was able to make out a sharp point stuck in my face and then the woman standing tall over me with her hair shaved into two Mohawks...or was that four? Damn double vision.

She smiled evilly upon me and let out a feral scream before a deafening rattle sent her disappearing from sight. Okay, she was gone now, but all I could concentrate on was the deep ringing permeating through my ears, one that had my head almost exploding from the inside out. I clenched my eyes shut and could feel the muscles in my face stiffen.

Oh god...where the hell am I? How the hell did I get here? Who -

I suddenly felt someone tugging on my bound wrists and looked up to see some guy shouting in my face. Who was this man and what did he want? I could see his lips moving, but could only hear the shrill ringing above everything else.

Oh man...the pain was becoming too intense...his face was disappearing from view...

And then there was darkness.


	3. Awakening

Ch. 2: Awakening

From the darkness I could hear a faint whir, followed by a gentle breeze falling upon my face and then I began to feel my eyes fluttering open, only to squeeze them shut a second later.

Blinding light engulfed everything and my heart began racing as I was overcome by the tidal wave of agony washing over me, starting from my head and shooting all the way down to the tips of my toes like a violent crackle of electricity. I felt my eyeballs wanting to explode behind my clenched eyelids and my muscles tightened as my blood turned to fire. I couldn't move and wanted to scream in agony, but all that came out was a weak gurgle.

And then just like that it was suddenly over. No more agony. No more fire.

Slowly but surely the rest of my senses came back to me as I again listened to the gentle whirring and the mild breeze that followed, along with the leaden tongue in a dry mouth and then the soft warmth of a blanket. The aroma of coffee suddenly entered my nostrils and it caused my facial muscles to twitch as I felt the hard bed beneath me.

I slowly opened my eyes, but was again met by the blinding light and a low grunt escaped and I wanted to bring my hands up and rub at my throbbing eyes, yet my arms felt like they were made of rubber and it took a strained effort before I could finally lift a hand.

Wait a minute, my hands were free!

With another labored grunt I brought my hands up to rub my throbbing eyes, only to recoil at the fresh thundering inside my skull.

"Father, I think he is waking up!" a woman's voice sounded from nearby.

Another person! Oh god...those people from that horrible place!

I lowered my hands and again forced my eyes open. It was like I was underwater as the whole world rippled around me and slowly, but surely the blinding light dissipated. Colors and shapes began coming back to me as a particularly large blur crossed my field of vision.

"Take it easy there, son. You don't wanna overexert yourself after everything you've been through," a new voice spoke up, a man's with a kindly tinge to it, followed by repeated taps on a wooden floor.

"I'm just glad to see you're still among the living," the man spoke with a gentle chuckle as the creaking of a chair followed.

I managed to turn my head to the side in an effort to catch a glimpse of whom I was speaking to, but everything started spinning again and fresh waves of nausea left me wanting to vomit. I brought my hand back to cover my eyes and block out the world around me until the feeling subsided and when I lowered my hand I found myself staring at a roughly human-shaped form.

"Don't be in too much of a hurry, friend. You've been out cold for three days straight. You're gonna need plenty of time to regain your bearings," the man spoke again. It took a few more seconds before my vision started to adjust and I was facing an older gentleman in a white lab coat with a full head of silver hair and crystal blue eyes beneath a pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses.

"It's good to see you're awake. After what happened to you I was beginning to worry my efforts had all been for naught," the man said rising to his feet and pulling a thin object from his breast pocket, "Now that you're awake, if you'll excuse me for a bit..."

Next thing I know he was using a thumb to hold my eye open and shining a bright light into it, causing another sudden rush of pain to shoot throughout my body.

"Ack...please!" I rasped, my tongue feeling like it weighed a ton.

"At least you can still talk. That's a promising sign," he said with a chuckle, "I know it ain't too pleasant, but it's just a little process I do with everybody just waking up after being out for more than a day. At least you've still got your sight, another good deal," he spoke before reaching for the stethoscope dangling around his neck and pressing the end to my chest.

"Where...where...am I?" I weakly groaned.

"You are in my home. Rest assured you are somewhere safe. It's a good thing Andy and his boys found you when they did. Had they been a second later you and I wouldn't be having this conversation right now," the nameless man spoke placing his stethoscope on a nearby tray and then scooping up a clipboard to jot down a few notes.

"Where did they find me?" I blurted out, relieved I was still capable of speaking a fully coherent sentence.

The old man looked apprehensively towards me before replying, "They found you in a Bloodclaw encampment about ten miles out of here. You were the lucky one."

"Bloodclaws?" I asked with a slight tremor.

"Tribals," he replied scrunching his facial features, "Bloody savages. Every single damned one of them."

And then it all clicked into place.

The fire...those strange people...the fighting...the dead bodies...

"That wasn't a dream?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not," the man said clasping his hands in front of him, "Andy and his people were out looking for the members of a missing supply caravan when they found you," he curtly answered before changing the subject, "Anyways, I'm Doc Graham and now that you've finally woken up I can formally welcome you to Rodeo Plaza."

"Rodeo Plaza," I repeated in a barely audible whisper. Was this place supposed to mean something to me? I tried to remember, but could only draw a blank.

"That is correct. One of the few places 'round these parts where you're still able to get a warm meal, a good night's rest, or even a cool dip in the pool without being shot at, but enough about that," the good doctor said lowering himself back down into his chair, "Now, can you tell me your name?"

The whole world came to a sudden standstill.

I couldn't remember.

My name? What is my name? I have a name, right? I have to have one if I'm a part of this world, don't I? Parents tend to give their children names when they are born.

Wait a minute, parents...I have parents don't I? How else am I here? If I have them then why can't I remember them? Oh god...who am I? What am I? Where do I come from? When was I born? Why can't I remember anything? How did I get like this?

The litany of questions running through my head came to a sudden halt as I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked over to see the silver-haired man still hovering over me.

"You don't remember, do you?" he deadpanned.

I could only stare quietly back before I slowly began to shake my head, "No...I don't...I don't remember anything..."

The doctor stared ruefully at me, "You took a pretty nasty blow to the head. I don't know if it was those Bloodclaws doing, but I'm surprised you're not a vegetable right now."

The revelation sent a fresh chill down my spine and I stared at the dull ceiling, afraid to move as question after question swirled through my head. All the while Doc Graham remained steadfast by my side.

"I'm sorry. I can't even begin to imagine what you are going through. Rest assured that we will do whatever we can to help you through this trying ordeal. You have my word."

Again I remained silent. I wanted to thank this man for saving my life, but the overwhelming feeling of dread kept me unable to speak and I laid there listening to the beating of my heart. It seemed like forever and when it finally happened I don't even recall how I made the effort to speak.

"Am I going to be like this forever?" I asked.

The old man offered a pensive gaze and placed a hand to his chin. "Well, I'm sure things will come back to you in due time...I hope. Everyone is different."

A knock came and my eyes shifted towards the doorway where a young woman stood, clad in a flower-patterned spring dress with her auburn hair tied back in a bun. She recoiled when noticing my sudden movements, but relaxed when she saw I meant no harm.

"Father, how is he?" she inquired.

"Our guest seems to be doing fine," the doctor answered before returning his attention to me, "for the most part."

The woman nodded and offered me a warm smile. "I'm Lucy. Glad to see you are alright. I hope you don't mind, but I washed your jumpsuit for you."

"My jumpsuit?" I asked while slowly rolling onto my side.

The young lady nodded and raised a light blue jumpsuit for me to see, the number '72' stitched onto the backside in yellow polyester.

"You were wearing that when they found you. Doesn't jog any memories?" Graham asked.

I shook my head as I stared at the strange jumpsuit. "Is that supposed to be something you know about?" I asked wondering how I could have been wearing something like that.

"They're from Vaults. Those places were all over. They were supposed to protect the people from when the bombs fell over 200 years ago. My pops grew up in one of those places. Granted, I haven't seen a vault dweller around in over 40 years, but if you're one of them then you sure look like you've been through a whole hell of a lot," the doctor said adjusting his glasses.

I looked down to my arms and noticed a multitude of scars covering them, long, thin lines of discolored flesh over a fair surface. It was then I noticed the needle sticking in my arm and the IV drip I had been hooked up to all this time. Carefully I lifted the blanket to see a few circular markings covering my bare chest and stomach. Was I supposed to have all this if I was a 'vault dweller' as the good doctor put it?

"I...I wouldn't know," I replied staring down at the markings and brought my right hand up, only for my eyes to widen in horror when I looked down at the bandaged stump where my right index finger should have been. As I slowly lowered my hand I looked straight ahead and into an adjoining darkened room where I was able to see the glint of light off a reflective surface – a mirror!

There was something else I needed to see and with a sudden surge of strength coming to me I kicked the covers to the floor and pulled the IV needle from my arm.

"Hey, what are you doing?" the doctor demanded and without warning I grabbed onto his arm and with a mighty tug I pulled myself to my feet, only to feel my legs wobbling beneath me and my world beginning to spin, followed by a fresh wave of nausea.

"Son, you need to take it easy!" Graham protested placing his other hand on my waist to steady me.

"I have to see something!" I grunted taking a step forward, only to catch myself on the nearby bedpost as my knees buckled beneath my weight.

"Lucy, help me!" the doctor ordered and without hesitation his daughter dropped the blue jumpsuit to the floor and was rushing over to lend me her shoulder. I stood in place with my arms wrapped around both of them and I took a few deep breaths before I dared to place weight on my other foot, trying to shrug off the tingling sensation as my bare feet stood on the cool wooden floor.

"I have to see something," I repeated while taking in my surroundings. All this time I had been in a room big enough to include two other empty single person beds shielded by semi-transparent privacy screens, a gurney and a wheelchair, both slightly rusted but left in otherwise good condition, a small table where a chemistry set sat, a large cabinet, and several charts depicting the human anatomy adorning the walls. Toward the center of the room was an operating table surrounded by trays holding various surgical instruments and an operating light hanging overhead. Yet through it all, there was that small room at the end that held my attention, where the reflective surface called out to me.

"I have to see something," I repeated for the second time before taking a few more labored steps, dragging the doctor and his daughter along with me. It would take some more struggle before I would find my center of gravity and with my strength coming back to me I gently broke free and stepped hurriedly towards the opened door before stopping to brace myself against the frame. Nothing was going to stop me and with another lunge I was in the room and grasping the counter. The click of a light switch followed and I was left standing face to face with someone I didn't recognize.

That somebody was supposed to be me.

My eyes were instantly drawn to the right side of my head, which had been shaved bald and was covered by a several days old bandage that had been wrapped all the way around my head, a darkened, almost brown dry spot crossing the expanse. The good doctor mentioned I had taken a pretty nasty blow to the head and it left me wondering if this was the very injury that had robbed me of my memory. I was strangely drawn to the dried splotch, yet it left me afraid to make any sudden movements for fear of reopening the freshly mended wound. I still had to feel relief in knowing that something could be done, or else I wouldn't be here taking a good hard look at the face in the mirror before me.

Speaking of which, I slowly began to take in the rest, at least what wasn't obscured by hair. What had once been a full mane of sandy blond hair fell to the bottom of my neck and was joined by a thick matching beard covering the bottom half of my face, both matted and oily after not having been washed in quite some time. A pair of bloodshot gray eyes looked back at me, the left rimmed by a discolored patch of black and blue and the corner of the right held together by another line of stitches, a testament to how badly those savages had roughed me up.

"Are you alright, mister?" Doc Graham spoke from behind, now having retrieved his cane and looking towards me with deep concern. I didn't reply.

All I could do was focus on the bloodshot eyes staring back at me and note the pain behind them. Had I really lived such a long, hard life why they looked so dead to me?

From the corner of my eye I looked back to the old doctor and let out a quiet sigh before answering, "I'm fine."

It was a lie and judging by the doctor's furrowing brow he could also tell it was, but I'm guessing he was going to be considerate and not prod a guy who had just woken up with no memory of his past when he disappeared from sight.

"Very well. You should get yourself cleaned up. Looks like it's been a while since you've had yourself a nice warm bath," the old man called out.

"Not to mention a decent haircut," Lucy added.

"Take all the time you need. We'll still be here when you get done," Doc Graham spoke from the other room.

"Yeah...thanks," I said closing the door behind me.

XXXXX

I don't know how long I was in that bathtub for, but I swore it must have felt like damn near an eternity, at least long enough to warrant four knocks from Lucy coming to check up on me. It hadn't taken me long to wash all the filth away, but it was the sheer solitude that had given me plenty of time to be alone with my thoughts and the warm, soothing water did nothing to calm my racing mind.

The same questions haunted me as I sat there and whenever I tried to dig deeper I only felt that sharp pain in the side of my head. I had to ask myself again if I would be like this forever and the good doctor's words did little to alleviate my anxieties.

The fifth knock came and my body must have gone into autopilot because before I knew it Lucy was in to give me both a shave and a proper haircut.

Now here I stood looking into the eyes of a completely different person.

The partial mane had been shaved away and the beard was long gone, revealing the X-shaped scar on my right cheek that marred an otherwise youthful appearance. I was grateful for what the young woman had done for me, but now I was left to wonder how old I really was (I couldn't be any more than 35 by my rough guess) and where I could have gotten that unique scar from.

She had been forced to remove the bandage while cutting my hair and it was now that I was able to see the line of stitches crossing the expanse of weathered skin. I was oddly drawn to the aftermath of his needlework, but then reminded myself that this wasn't some large scale professional setup he had and focused on getting myself dressed.

With nothing else left for me I was now clad in the Vault 72 jumpsuit after receiving a fresh pair of under garments, along with a pair of black boots, matching fingerless gloves, and a belt I had been wearing when that posse found me. The clothes looked foreign, yet at the same time felt familiar. Was I truly one of those 'vault dwellers' as the good doctor said? Or does this outfit just fit me that well?

I switched off the light and made my way into a spacious living room where Doc Graham sat in a cushy armchair near the fireplace with his nose buried in a book and a leather travel pack at his feet. From the other room I could hear the sizzle of something cooking on a stove and felt my already dry mouth watering and left me wondering if that was a smell I was supposed to be familiar with. My thoughts were interrupted as the old man heard me approach and looked up with his eyes widening behind his glasses.

"Well I'll be damned. Are you the same guy I treated earlier?" he asked setting his book down on the nearby coffee table. "My daughter must be quite the miracle worker because you're looking like a whole new person."

I offered only a slight laugh to the comment as I scanned the rest of the room and my eyes were drawn to a tidy bookshelf nearby lined with untouched pre-War books, a toy car, and a globe before happening across a framed black and white photograph, one of a younger man and a woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to Lucy.

"That was my wife and I when we were first married," the doctor spoke up, "Lucy sure takes after her, don't you think?" he finished with a hint of sadness in his voice before gesturing towards the lime green couch across from him, "But that's a story for another time. Here, why don't you take a seat?"

"Sure," I said sitting down and making myself comfortable.

"I know it hasn't been long, but how are things coming along thus far?" Graham asked leaning forward in his armchair.

I hesitated to reply and took a few deep breaths before I spoke, "Well this suit...it almost feels familiar to me, but it doesn't look like it. I was thinking I would get some ideas...but I just can't come up with anything."

The old doctor sat quietly across from me with his chin rested upon a balled up fist knowing he had to choose his words carefully. It wasn't like there was much he could say without provoking some kind of strong reaction, especially when that patient was awake and alone in a war torn world, but he still took his time before lifting his head and speaking.

"I understand you're going to have a long road ahead of you and I want to do what I can to help, but I can't just try to throw a bunch of stuff at you all in one sitting. You have to take things one day at a time. The fact that the feeling of that jumpsuit seems familiar to you is just a tiny baby step. Is it going to be the right direction? I honestly cannot tell you," the older man spoke before removing his glasses to wipe some specks away with the corner of his lab coat.

"Is there even a 'right' direction?" I asked staring blankly into the empty fireplace.

"Only time will tell, but I think I could help give you a jump start," Graham replied before reaching down for the backpack at his side and placing it on the coffee table.

"That pack was with you when they brought you in. I would've looked through it, but I didn't want to invade your privacy. I'm assuming it's yours so why don't you take a look through it? See if there's anything to jog your memory."

I stared at the pack placed before me, a scuffed leather bag that had seen its share of wear and tear. Like my jumpsuit it had the number '72' stitched onto it in bright yellow polyester. I repeated the number to myself, wondering if there had to be some kind of connection.

Vault 72, was that where I came from?

I undid the clasps and reached in for the first item, only to pull out a bottle of clear liquid. I could only look the small bottle up and down wondering why it could have meant so much?

"I wouldn't be surprised if that's the reason you got jumped. It don't look like much, but purified water is like gold around here," the doctor commented before looking away, "Believe me, those damned raiders have killed plenty of innocent folks over bottles that small."

I ignored his comment and sat the bottle down before pulling out a few comic books, all of which had covers depicting a scantily-clad man with a large battle ax in hand, locked in battle against monsters much larger than him. The title introduced the character as 'Grognak the Barbarian.' Was I supposed to like him or something? I dug further and pulled out a small box of some snack called 'Fancy Lads Snack Cakes,' which seemed to pique my curiosity. A breakthrough perhaps?

"You seem to be quite the child at heart. There's something we could have to go on," the doctor chuckled, "I haven't seen a Grognak comic around in forever," he said before leaning over to me, "I have a whole bunch of those hidden in the safe beneath my bed, but you didn't hear that from me," he replied with a wink.

I focused on emptying out the bag, pulling out some syringes (Stimpaks as the doctor called them), a bottle of Buffout, roll of bandages, a pocket knife, a leather belt, and a gold-plated lighter before I reached the bottom and found my last item stuck in a fold.

It was a gold star suspended from a red, white and blue ribbon.

I was mystified by the artifact and left to wonder why I would be carrying such a thing. I looked back to Doc Graham, who just regarded me with quiet curiosity as I held the star in front of him.

"I don't recognize this, Doc," I said still staring intently at it.

"It looks like some kind of medal, like the kind the government gave out to servicemen back in the pre-War times," he said eyeing it closely.

"Pre-War?" I asked, having heard that term more than once since waking up, the doctor saying something about 'when the bombs fell over 200 years ago.'

"Heh, I guess you really have been living in a Vault after all this time," Graham said rubbing his chin, "and just when I thought they were all opened."

The doctor cleared his throat before continuing, "I don't know how you ended up with that medal in your possession, but if I were you I'd hold on to that. If there's one thing life in the wastes teaches you it's that every little thing counts. You never know what the littlest things can lead to," he commented before cocking a mischievous eyebrow, "Perhaps you have that for a reason, one that could give you some of the answers you seek."

Strangely I felt inclined to agree with the guy and I slid the medal back into the pack before looking over to him. "I still don't feel anything, Doc."

"Take your time dear boy. You don't want to rush yourself," the old man spoke as he reached for his cane was about to stand up before stopping himself, "Come to think of it, all this time you've been with us and we haven't given you a name to call you.

Once again I was left wondering what my name had been before that posse found me and I shut my eyes in deep thought, hoping for some kind of flash from the past, but was again unable to come up with anything. Surely I needed to be called something other than just "Mister," "Son," or "Hey you."

It was then my eyes opened and I was staring at my backpack.

"Seventy-Two," I suddenly blurted out.

The doctor just stopped and looked at me in bewilderment.

"Excuse me?" he demanded.

"Call me Seventy-Two," I answered.

Graham still looked at me in confusion and was about to say something, but halted when he saw that I was being serious.

"Well...if that's what you want to call yourself then I guess that's what you want to call yourself," the doctor spoke in an unsure tone, his brow creasing in emphasis, "Can't say that's the name I would've picked for you, but who am I to judge?" he grumbled and started for the kitchen.

"That Brahmin steak sure is smelling mighty delicious. Maybe a filling meal could be a start, eh?"

I said nothing and followed him into the kitchen.


	4. The First Steps Forward

Ch. 3: The First Steps Forward

"Wow, this is some delicious steak," I said before sticking another chunk into my mouth and chewing it slowly before grabbing the nearby bottle of Nuka Cola to wash it down. I didn't know if I was supposed to like steak or not, but this particular kind I really enjoyed and would want to try again sometime in the future.

"Bob and Doris have been doing this for a long, long time. They know their stuff. Believe me, their steaks are even better than that radspider casserole over at Vannah's," Doc Graham chuckled, only to stop himself when I looked at him in confusion. "That's a story for another time."

"Better not let Vannah hear you saying that," Lucy spoke while pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee, "You know how protective she is of her homemade cooking and she doesn't keep that shotgun on the wall just for decoration you know," she added taking a seat at the end of the kitchen table.

"You always gotta get that dramatic?" the good doctor scoffed with a dismissive wave.

I found myself chuckling at the lighthearted exchange and kept focused on the steak before me. I had been sitting down with the Grahams for over an hour and in that short span of time the doctor had managed to give me a brief history lesson where he touched upon the "Great War" and how the entire world had fallen into nuclear annihilation, along with the people fleeing to the Vaults and their emergence, the formation of the New Midwest Commonwealth, and the founding of Rodeo Plaza. Granted, everything seemed so brief to me because I was so intent upon the succulent Brahmin steak I ended up asking for another, along with a side of canned corn and another bottle of Nuka Cola. Damn, I must have never eaten anything before I lost my memory.

"Thank you for the meal," I said setting down my utensils and grabbing a napkin to wipe the excess sauce away from my lips.

"Anytime. You're still my patient, so I want to do what I can to help after what you've gone through," the doctor smiled from across me before finishing his coffee, the mug bearing a maroon 'M' outlined by gold. Just then a knock came from the front door.

"I'll get that," Lucy said rising from her chair and exiting the room, only to return moments later with two visitors, "Father, Mr. Morgan and Sheriff Stone are here to see you."

The first person was a tall, robust dark-skinned older man with graying hair and a matching mustache and goatee, clad in a windbreaker and tan slacks. He would have been intimidating had it not been the warm smile he offered right away. With him was a woman who had to be in her mid-to-late 20's with her long brunette hair tied back in a ponytail and looking rather rugged in her well-worn duster, black cowboy hat and motorcycle boots. She had a lever-action rifle slung across her back, yet held another rifle in her hand as she stood next to the big man.

"Howdy Doc, we were just coming over to see how your patient was doing," the man spoke before turning his attention to me, "Glad to see you are awake, son."

"Thank you mister," I said rising to my feet to shake the man's hand, "You can call me Seventy-Two."

The two new arrivals stared at me in confusion before looking back to each other with a collective shrug.

"Heh, when you've had a million John Does out there a change is nice for once," the woman chuckled.

Now it was my turn to look at her in confusion and she straightened herself out upon noticing this, "It was a placeholder name authorities used to give patients whose identities were unknown back in the old days."

The man quickly cut in before any further rambling could occur, "Uh yeah, sure thing...I'm Gus Morgan and I'm in charge around here," the man said returning the gesture and then motioning to his companion, "and this is Ruby Stone, our sheriff."

"Pleased to meet you," the woman said extending a free hand, "We heard about Andy and his boys finding you in that Bloodclaw camp and we wanted to make sure everything was alright."

"I'm doing fine so far...I think," I replied while turning my head so they could see the line of stitches for themselves.

"My patient – Seventy-Two I mean, has been having some memory problems and we are trying to help him get back on his feet," Graham said grabbing his cane and walking up alongside me.

A quiet tension fell over the room as Gus and Ruby looked quietly to each other and then their gaze would fall to the rifle held in her hands.

"Well, I wanted to wait until you woke up before I gave this back to you, just so I could make sure you weren't no troublemaker. They found it with you back at the encampment and assumed it must belong to you," the sheriff said holding the rifle up.

I took the rifle from her hands and carefully examined it. I could tell it had seen its fair share of wear and tear from all the scrapes on the wooden surface and some dents in the barrel, including some gouges left where someone had attempted to jimmy the chamber open with a screwdriver. It was heavily modified for combat with a night vision telescopic sight, an extended magazine capacity for extra rounds, and a silencer for a quiet death from afar. Maybe I was some kind of bad ass soldier I told myself as I ejected the clip to see I still had three bullets on me and was about to address the others when I turned the rifle over and found the name _'Annie'_ scratched into the side.

Annie? Who could that be? Surely it had to be someone important to me if I was going to scratch their name on the side of a gun, but who? My mother? My sister? My wife?

"Seventy-Two, are you alright?" Doc asked grabbing me by the shoulder.

I shot my eyes open to find him, Lucy, Ruby and Gus all staring at me with looks of concern as I could feel the beads of sweat forming on my brow and the tremor in my hands.

"This Andy guy I've heard you mention, where is he?" I asked quickly changing the subject.

"Oh, Andy Ziegers? Well, when he isn't out searching for lost caravans, prospecting for broken down pre-War trinkets, or blasting down the pests that come knocking on our door, he's usually over at Vannah's Diner knocking a few back or trying to pick up on that new girl Stanzi," Gus chuckled before looking down at his wristwatch, "If you're quick, you might still be able to catch him. It ain't hard to miss, only the fourth largest building in town after the motel, church, and strip mall of course."

"Very well then," I said slinging the rifle over my shoulder, "Hopefully he can give me some clues."

"Just watch yourself out there. You're welcome to hang around the community for as long as you like, just don't go around causing no trouble and we'll get along just fine," Gus nodded.

"I appreciate your hospitality and I promise I won't," I said reaching over to shake the big man's hand again before making my way out of the kitchen.

"Just don't go losing anything else while you're out and about," Graham called as I reached the front door.

"Thanks again. I'll see you around, Doc," I replied before opening the front door and making my exit.

XXXXX

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the lingering daylight before the world around me returned and I was finally able to take in the community that was Rodeo Plaza, a walled-in plot of land dominated by the motel that bore its namesake. By the looks of it, the building must have existed before the war that destroyed the world. Standing in front of it was a faded cowboy statue, the colossus still offering a friendly wave and an ear-to-ear grin to those who had not succumbed to the insanity of the harsh wastes around them.

From the hilltop where I stood I had a nearly complete view of the entire settlement and in addition to the community's centerpiece the only other building that really stood out to me right away was a long narrow building with a heavily pock-marked stone surface that offered access to a food co-op, general store, weapons dealer, and a barber all in one stop, likely the strip mall Gus mentioned earlier. Aside from that it was mostly small plywood houses, a few large tents, a small brick building covered in peeling blue paint that was surrounded by disassembled cars and robots (a sign hanging overhead identifying it as _'Seth's Garage'_ ), a rickety-looking church that looked ready to collapse with the next strong wind, and empty plots of land set aside for farming and grazing Bighorns and those two-headed cattle ('Brahmin' was what Doc Graham had called them).

There was a flagpole on the motel grounds with a banner that flew above it all: seven stripes, 3 blue and 4 gold, along with a large white circle towards the left that had a burning torch surrounded by 5 large gold stars, a symbol from the old world carried over to the new.

The sheet metal walls surrounding the community were tall enough to obscure my view of what laid beyond and it left me feeling curious to explore the outside world, yet I knew I had other business to tend to first.

A dirt trail led me down to a faded picket fence with a small gate to separate the doctor's property from the rest of town and I made my way down, noting the mailbox out front that bore a bright red cross rather than the inhabitant's name on the side. I opened the gate and made my way along a dirt road continuing forth until I saw a sign letting me know I would find Vannah's Diner if I took a left and I turned onto a street lined with tents and vendor's booths that didn't leave much room for movement, yet the area was still rife with activity for the late afternoon hours.

Business had been good for the vendors plying their wares with curious visitors drawn in by the carefully rehearsed speech of the unofficial market crier, a freckle-faced boy standing atop an empty Sunset Sarsaparilla crate with a walking stick he pointed in all directions as other children ran past him kicking a soccer ball around while a dog bounded after them, barking happily the entire time.

Those who weren't shopping were gathered around a small enclosure where a band was situated, led by a cowboy hat-wearing busker with an exaggerated walrus mustache who belted out some folksy country tune about an absent father while strumming away on an acoustic guitar.

The music suddenly stopped when the man noticed me and everything else would soon follow as the patrons and vendors halted their activities to stop and stare at me, even the dog who had been chasing after the children just moments before stopped to come over and sniff me out of curiosity.

It wasn't long before some of the residents began to murmur quietly among themselves while the others continued to stare in quiet wonder and I looked back feeling like I should be getting out of there, but my legs didn't want to move and I felt my mouth opening for me to shout at them to leave me alone, yet nothing came out as the tension paralyzed me.

I felt like an animal in a cage as they sized me up and the world seemed to slow down around me as my heart began racing and it was then my hearing grew to superhuman levels and I could hear every little detail: the jangling of bottle caps as a junk vendor stepped out from behind his booth to get a better look at me, the splatter of a distracted lemonade vendor spilling the contents of her pitcher, the click as some child ran up to me with a camera in hand and snapped a picture...

"Hey, you're a Vaultie aren't you?" I heard a voice call out and turned to see a balding older man in a bright red handyman's jumpsuit approaching me, the clanking of the instruments inside his toolbox amplified times a million.

It became too much and I hurriedly brushed past the old maintenance man and took another left past the band before I found myself approaching another narrow building with a weathered sign hanging overhead identifying it as _'Vannah's Diner'_ along with a placard out front proclaiming the building as the _"Home of Vannah's world famous radspider casserole."_

A few eight-legged creatures stood tied to posts outside the establishment. What were they called? Oh yes, Sleipnirs – an animal born from the fallout of a long ago war, a product of old creatures being forced to evolve into something new in the wake of the world's destruction. They were a mutated form of horse according to what Doc Graham had told me and were common throughout the land.

I stepped inside to find some younger man with his back to me banging away on a malfunctioning radio, "Come on, you stupid piece of shit!"

"Eli, not here!" a woman called out as she exited the kitchen before taking notice of me and halting in her tracks. She was a middle-aged woman wearing a faded blue dress with a white apron and pink cardigan. The attached name tag introduced her as _'Vannah,'_ the diner's aforementioned owner. "Well, howdy there, sir. You're just in time," she spoke adopting a more matronly tone, "We're just about to whip up another batch of my famous radspider casserole as we speak!"

"Uh, I'm afraid I'm not here for that," I said looking past her to the mounted Bighorner head on the wall, "I'm looking for Andy Ziegers. Is he still here?"

Vannah looked a bit disappointed as she brushed some strands of her platinum blonde hair out of her face, "He's in the back. If you're lucky he's sober."

I offered a quick nod and made my way into the back room that was separated by a partition from the main dining area, a smaller space with two pool tables, a dartboard, a pinball machine, and a jukebox playing some upbeat big band song. There were three men congregated near the pool tables and another passed out drunk at a corner table, but it was a young man in the middle of flirting with the dark-haired waitress who caught my attention, an amber-haired fellow wearing a brown jacket containing many pockets with a service rifle slung over his shoulder.

He had also taken notice of me and sat his beer down, "Stanzi, can you give me a moment please?"

The woman nodded and went about her way as the man approached and carefully looked me up and down before speaking, "You are that guy from the other night aren't you? I recognize the jumpsuit, but don't recognize your face."

"Uh yeah...I think that's supposed to be me," I awkwardly replied.

"Well damn, you're looking like a whole new person," the man chuckled before extending a hand, "Andy Ziegers, it's a pleasure to finally meet you...under better circumstances that is."

Then it all clicked into place. He was the same man from the camp, the guy shouting in my face before I passed out.

"So what do I call you then?" he asked raising an eyebrow, "I'm sure they call you something."

I hesitated before answering, "For now just call me Seventy-Two. I don't remember my real name," I admitted before leaning in and whispering, "Anyways, I was hoping you could tell me more about what happened. I can't remember anything else that happened before that night," I said before turning to show him the scar along the right side of my now shaven head.

"Damn," the man muttered before cocking his head towards a small table to our left, "Have a seat and we'll talk more."

I obliged and took a seat across from him. I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask the man and took the time to carefully compose myself as he took one last swig from his drink and set the now emptied bottle aside.

"Well I guess I'm gonna be telling you a bunch of stuff the Doc might have already told you. A couple nights back my crew and I were out looking for the members of a supply caravan that hadn't arrived on time. We knew they were gonna be taking a stroll through Bloodclaw territory but ol' Jonah, you couldn't tell that stubborn bastard a damned thing. It wasn't hard to track 'em down either. All we had to do was follow the trail of carnage and then next thing we knew, we're finding them prepping you for one of their 'sacrifices' they're oh so fond of," the scout grunted.

"Is there anything else you can tell me? Just anything in general would be helpful, like how could I have ended up there? Was there any info that could tell you who I was?" I asked leaning towards him, hoping for an answer to the question that had been dogging me all this time.

"I'm afraid by the time we got there anybody else who could have told us anything was already dead. You were the lucky one," he said looking away with an almost haunted look in his eyes. He halted himself a second later as if gripped by an unseen force.

"Come to think of it, we found another guy in a Vault jumpsuit there, had one of his arms missing."

And then my mind was taken back to that night and I remembered seeing the man he spoke of, one arm and all, hovering in and out of consciousness. Rewinding further I recalled the other man in a similar jumpsuit, the freckle-faced guy with the busted glasses.

"There was no way in hell we were going to leave him out in the open like that to the mercy of those freaks and any other critters wandering around, so we buried him along with the others," Andy finished.

"Others? Did you find another guy there in a jumpsuit?" I asked.

"Nope. It was just you and that one-armed guy, Vault 39 on his jumpsuit, don't know if that's of much relevance to you or not. We also found one of those goons from the Scarface Syndicate among the dead. I wanted to leave him out for the vultures, but the others wouldn't let that happen," Andy continued.

"The Scarface Syndicate? Who are they?" I asked looking towards the others in the room. Sensing his need for caution I spoke in a hushed tone, but could see that they were still engaged in their own activities, so I felt relieved when no heads perked up.

"Only the biggest criminal organization in the land. Gun running, drug manufacturing, bootlegging, cap counterfeiting, slaving, sleipnir theft, murder for hire, you name it, they do it. Normally they stick to the other side of the Mississippi, but with all the fighting going down they've been getting more ballsy. Whenever one of them is hanging around you can bet your ass something big is going down and in the case of two Vault dwellers I'm willing to bet slaving was involved," Andy said leaning back in his chair.

"Vault dwellers and slaving?" I asked with a quizzical glance.

"Think about it. No offense intended, but those who grow up in the Vaults are typically the most naive and fearful, thus making them the easiest to fool and intimidate. That plus they are considered a hot commodity due to their pure genetic structures untouched by the radiation. I've heard of 'pure' humans netting slavers anywhere around five digits in caps," Andy continued.

"Caps?" I asked with a cocked eyebrow, perhaps living up to the 'naive Vault dweller' stereotype Andy had just brought up.

"Yeah, bottle caps. We've been using them as currency around here for as long as I can remember. You'd best keep that in mind if you really have been living in a vault all these years," Andy nodded.

"Well any bit of information you are able to provide is much appreciated," I replied before changing the subject, "So where did you find me?" I asked again in a hushed tone.

Andy looked warily at me before answering, "It was an encampment just outside of Skyline. You can always tell it's Bloodclaw by the 'decorations' they like to leave behind."

A few moments of silence passed before he spoke, "Why? You're not seriously planning on checking that place out, are you?"

I hesitated to reply at first but with a deep breath I forced myself, "I have to. I have to find whatever clues I can get to finding out who I really am."

The scout narrowed his eyes at me, "I don't like that one bit. Those Bloodclaws aren't human. They're damned animals. Going through their territory alone would be fucking suicidal. Hell, we barely made it out of there trying to save your ass."

I knew he wouldn't like my answer, but I could sense he was a reasonable man who only looked out for me in the same way he would for a brother and it would take some careful wording to find my way around his rough around the edges exterior.

"With all due respect I understand you are trying to look out for me. I know it will be a long, dangerous journey for me and there's a chance I might not like what I find in the end, but I _need_ to find out who I am. I simply cannot sit around wondering or else it will eat away at me forever. There is something out there. I need to find it and I'm not going to find it if I'm cooped up around here. I know you can't comprehend what I'm going through right now, but I need you to understand where I am coming from...the path of a broken man," my speech direct and with force, the kind of force that should make anybody stop and think.

Andy sat and stared quietly at me with his eyes still narrowed and it was after a few seconds he finally sighed and spoke, "You know, you're right. There are answers out there you must seek and you're not going to find them just sitting around here. I can't understand where you are coming from, but I'm sure it must be hell for you," he spoke before turning his attention to Annie, "How many bullets you have left for that old lady?"

"Three," I said pulling out the clip and letting the bullets clatter to the table.

Andy picked one up and looked it over before he continued, "Well if you're gonna be going back out there you're sure gonna need a whole hell of a lot more ammo than this, not to forget you'll need to brush up on your skills, and I know just the place to take you."

XXXXX

Upon entering the O.K. Shooting Emporium my eyes were not drawn to the multitude of guns lining the walls, but rather the mounted beast in the center of the room, standing tall on its hind legs with its fangs bared and its claws extended, ready to cut down whoever were to step through the front door.

"What the hell?" I muttered to myself, taking in the beast's ragged and rotting appearance, the creature looking back to me with one lifeless eye.

"That right there son is ol' Charlie One-Eye, king of the yao guai and the baddest sum bitch this side of the Mississippi...heh heh, at least 'til he crossed paths with Ted Sanderson!" a voice called out and I turned to see an older man with a rattan cowboy hat and graying handlebar mustache walk towards me, also clad in a leather vest with a red neckerchief, blue tartan shirt, tan cargo pants, and heavily-scuffed cowboy boots. With a heavy chuckle he withdrew the large revolver strapped to his holster and proudly displayed it for us to see, "Took 'im down with my own little monster."

I just stared quietly at the man and blinked.

"Yao...what?" I asked, confused by the foreign term.

"I'll explain later," Andy said stepping in front of me, "My friend here needs some 5.56 rounds for his rifle."

Ted holstered his pistol and eyed Annie closely, "Looks more beaten up than a hooker that didn't give the john a 'happy ending.' You sure you ain't lookin' for a new gun, son?"

I looked over to Andy, who rolled his eyes at the old man's analogy before I looked back to the dealer and spoke, "Uh...I'm fine with what I've got thank you very much. Can I please just get some more bullets?"

"Let's check out what pistols you've got in stock also," Andy spoke up before looking back to me, "You'll need more than one gun to survive out in these parts."

I just nodded back and followed the two men around the stuffed 'yao guai' and further back into the shop where I was finally able to see the numerous types of assault rifles, shotguns, submachine guns and sniper rifles lining the walls before we reached the front counter.

"Feast your eyes, boys. There's plenty to go 'round here for the next apocalypse," Ted said gesturing towards the pistols lining the shelf below him.

I took the time to carefully scan the firearms beneath me, a few revolvers and quite a few blocky and box-like handguns before my finger traced along to a large revolver with a gold star engraved on the side, "What about that one?"

Ted let out a harsh laugh, "Seriously? That Regulator Sequoia is _far_ to heavy for a wet behind the ears Vaultie! You'll shoot your eye out."

Who the hell does this guy think he is to be talking down to me like this? I opened my mouth to speak, but again Andy stepped in.

"Just give him a 10mm!" the scout said getting between us and raising his left hand defensively while reaching into one of his coat's many pockets and pulling out a small pouch to place on the counter.

"Smart move," Ted scoffed pulling out the 10mm pistol and placing it on the counter along with 2 clips. I looked over to Andy, who silently willed me on and I took the gun and ammo. The shopkeeper then pulled out 3 clips to give me for Annie, "Be careful. These things don't grow on trees y'know," he said handing them to me.

"Come on," Andy said quickly grabbing me by the shoulder and leading me to the back door, "We're going to need to use the range. Come along now."

"Is he like that with everybody?" I whispered as I was led along.

"Never mind old Ted. He claims to be a big hardcore survivalist type, but I think a lot of it is just him blowing smoke. He doesn't really respect anybody until they 'prove' themselves to him. How that goes, you never know with him. He only respects me because I saved his old ass from a riverlurk back in The Cross, but he'll never admit that to anybody else. Stubborn old bastard tried taking it on all by himself, can't tell him that he's not as quick as he used to be," Andy replied as we made our way out the back door and to the shooting range.

The 'range' had once been a cinder block building with its entire front end now demolished, leaving only three blackened walls and the partial remnants of a roof to protect any passersby from the stray bullets that failed to find their targets.

There were a few red and white wooden targets hanging from the blackened walls in addition to numerous fences that had been set up and lined with glass bottles, ceramic plates, broken appliances, a few small statues, and even a few mannequins set up behind obstacles like sandbag walls, emptied oil drums, pock-marked shipping crates and a broken down washing machine.

At the front of the range there was a large red 'X' spray painted on the ground and I assumed that's where I was supposed to stand so I took my position there, pulled Annie from my shoulder and inserted a fresh clip.

It was then I remembered the severed stump where my right index finger used to be and I stared at my hand warily, wondering what I was going to do about that.

"Hmmm, maybe you could try using your middle finger to squeeze the trigger?" Andy suggested as he watched from the sidelines.

Heeding his advice I placed my middle finger on the trigger and got used to the feeling of holding my rifle in that kind of manner before resting the stock against my shoulder and got myself acquainted with the gun's sights. The battered rifle almost felt comfortable in my hands and again I was left to wonder if this had truly been mine before the accident, but overall I was still left asking myself who the hell was Annie?

"Whenever you're ready," Andy spoke and I was broken out of my brief reverie.

I peered through the scope and set my sights on an old brown bottle with its label torn away, figuring I'd start myself out with a challenge. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves I took aim and squeezed the trigger.

With a muted puff the bullet sailed harmlessly over the bottle and struck the cinder block wall behind it with a muffled _"thwock."_

"Whoa there, maybe you should start out with something easier," Andy spoke up before pointing to one of the circular targets, "Why don't you try for that target over there."

I stared back in annoyance before letting out a heavy sigh and taking aim on the target as pointed out. With another deep breath I squeezed the trigger and the bullet flew from the barrel, barely clipping the outer rim.

"Fuck," I grumbled to myself, wondering if it had been a mistake I was left with this rifle.

And then everything went white.

XXXXX

 _"Ha! You couldn't hit the ass end of a radboar if your life depended on it! Might as well give it up while you still can!"_

 _I shot a sharp look to the dark-haired boy next to me, "I really don't think your parents would approve of you using that kind of language."_

 _"And I don't think your dad would approve of you not being able to hit the target," the boy shot back reaching for a fresh magazine to load into his rifle._

 _"He'll get it, don't worry," a new voice cut in and I looked to my right to see the flame-haired girl of about eleven years, her wide blue eyes instantly lighting me up and I flashed her a warm smile back._

 _"Just take your time. Remember what your dad taught you. Maybe you should try crouching. I've heard that can improve your accuracy," she spoke._

 _I simply nodded and took a knee, peering through my rifle's scope and taking a deep breath before I squeezed the trigger._

 _Less than a second later the glass bottle was reduced to a pile of shards._

 _With an ear-to-ear grin I turned to the boy next to me, "You were saying?"_

XXXXX

"Seventy-Two, are you alright?" Andy spoke and I could feel his hand clamp down on my shoulder.

I blinked my eyes rapidly before everything started coming back into view and I looked over to see concern in his green eyes before I spoke, "I'm fine...really, I'm fine."

But seriously, what the hell was that I just saw? Was it a flashback?

I remembered what that girl had told me and I crouched down to take aim on another glass bottle. With another deep breath and a mental countdown I squeezed the trigger and in less than a split second, the bottle shattered.

"Wow, hey you got it! You're improving after all," Andy chuckled.

I offered a slight nod of acknowledgment and switched my sights to a plate next to it and squeezed the trigger, reducing it to a pile of crumbs.

"Going for the hat trick?" Andy asked behind me.

I didn't answer and turned my attention to a wooden garden gnome covered in peeling paint and missing one of its arms. Lining up my sights I took aim and fired a round that obliterated what remained of the little guy's rotting face.

"Nice shooting. Now why don't we up the ante?" Andy spoke and from the corner of my eye I watched him pull a lever down.

I heard a loud metallic whine and looked forward to see the cracked upper torso of a mannequin come rolling into view, the dummy attached to a motorized platform and made to look like a wasteland raider with its spiked helmet and the broken assault rifle slung around its neck.

"Quick, get him before he gets you!" Andy shouted.

I was a bit rattled as I struggled to steady my aim against a moving target, but I quickly composed myself and fired a round that caught the approaching 'enemy' in the chest, a surefire kill to an actual human being. Feeling the surge of adrenaline I fired another round that tore through its neck and then a shot between the eyes that brought the motorized platform to a sudden halt.

"Way to go man. Three kills for three shots," Andy congratulated just as a wooden gate flew open and we turned to see a freckle-faced boy in ratty overalls come stumbling through.

"Mister Andy! Mister Andy!" the boy cried out frantically waving his arms.

"Mickey, what's wrong?" Andy asked running over to the boy and kneeling down to meet him at eye level.

"It's those mole rats! They're back and they got Ol' Gertie!" the boy shouted before stopping to catch his breath, "Please, you gotta stop them! Mama ain't got much, but she said she'll give you 200 caps for dealing with 'em."

"So those buggers decided to come back even after the butt kicking we gave them the last time? Well don't worry, we'll do something about them," Andy replied rising back to his feet and clapping me on the shoulder, "Well come on, here's a chance to earn yourself some quick caps."

"Mole rats?" I asked looking over to him warily.

"Yeah, ugly little buggers. You'll know 'em when you see 'em," Andy replied before returning his attention to the boy, "Go back home to your mama, Mickey. We'll deal with this, but first we've gotta stop by Seth's place. He's got a nice little way to help deal with those freaks, compliments of something he read about in a survival guide from out east. Let's go!"

"Sure thing," I nodded and followed after him.


	5. A Ghoulish Discovery

Ch. 4: A Ghoulish Discovery

The barren landscape surrounding the hamlet was covered in dead grass and dotted by dead trees, jagged rock formations, the occasional charred shell of a house, and a multitude of marring craters, the remnants of a long ago war.

Andy and I were positioned on the catwalk of a peeling Nuka Cola billboard, offering us a safe vantage point to survey our surroundings.

"See anything?" I asked as the scout peered through his binoculars.

"Just a few dens we've already cleared out before, but those things like to come back every now and then. Would be a good idea to check it out and make sure they haven't decided to come back," Andy said lowering his binoculars and making his way for the ladder and I followed suit.

As we reached the ground below he pulled out a bayonet and attached it beneath the barrel of his service rifle before looking to me and speaking, "We'll plant some repellent bombs around the dens. They get one whiff of those things and it's 'BOOM,' lights out. I'll need you to watch my back. You hear any screeching or see the ground moving, be ready to shoot. Those sneaky bastards can burrow into the ground."

With another silent nod I followed after him and we crossed the broken highway and ran along a long emptied stream that led us to a small cavern located beneath the remnants of a frayed wooden bridge. Nearby was a small pond of radioactive waste with a swarm of large flies circling overhead that left me raising Annie ready to fire, yet I was halted when Andy gripped my barrel.

"Bloatflies. Leave them. Those little bastards are far enough away they won't bother you if you don't piss them off," Andy said to me before reaching into his pack and pulling out a landmine with a small bag attached to it containing a glowing green substance – a 'repellent bomb' as Seth called it.

He told us it was a concoction he had read about from some book that came from the east – the Wasteland Survival Guide – a combination of the drugs Jet and Psycho that triggered an allergic reaction specifically in mole rats and produced rather 'explosive' results. The old mechanic then got creative and took some deactivated landmines, filled them up with some minor explosives, fitted a pressure plate, and then samples of the bodily scents emitted by the mole rats to attract prospective mates. So far they had worked out pretty well according to what Andy had told me earlier.

"This is a den me and the boys cleared out a little over a month ago. I'm gonna go in and plant a bomb and I want you to stand guard. You hear any shooting, be prepared to fight. Got it?" Andy asked.

"Sure," I replied while still staring anxiously at those 'bloatflies' hovering nearby. True to his word they were still keeping their distance for the time being, but I still had the feeling something bad was going to happen and I clutched Annie in a white knuckle fervor as he disappeared into the den.

If it wasn't the persistent buzz of the mutant flies in the background, it was the muffled gunfire in the distance that left me on edge as I stood alone in the earthen trench, my focus shifting to all directions at a manic pace as I waited for one of those 'mole rats' to make its presence felt.

In spite of the horrors lurking about, there was still an innate curiosity about the world waiting outside the gates of Rodeo Plaza. Maybe it was because I had just woken up with no memory of my past, or maybe it was there because I was truly one of those 'Vaulties' as Seth put it, curious to explore the world outside the confines of my underground shelter. So far I hadn't seen much aside from vast expanses of open land and the little semblances of settlement I had seen were reduced to charred ruins. It left me wondering if there was anything else out there.

But according to Andy there was, him and his friends having traveled outside the gates on supply runs. Taking his word for it, there apparently were still some 'friendly faces' out there scattered about, but the bad outweighed the good and there was whole lot of it.

Aside from the N.M.C.'s armed forces there was very little in the way of law enforcement and due to the ongoing civil war, they had too little in the way of manpower to provide protection for the entire stretch of their territory and thus they were forced to rely upon assistance from various cells of 'Regulators' (which Sheriff Stone had belonged to according to Andy's info) scattered about, which themselves were often underfunded, undermanned, under equipped and poorly organized. Given the dire circumstances, many towns were more than happy to receive help from wherever they could, providing whatever means of compensation available if they were unable to dish out the caps for their visitor's good deed be it a warm meal, a change of clothes, a safe place to sleep, or even in extreme cases, sexual favors.

It left me wondering what I would find once I was able to get myself some caps and set out in my search for answers, but right now I wasn't trying to think too much about it, just think about watching Andy's back as I heard him reemerging.

"Okay, it's in place. There's an abandoned prospector's camp not far from here those buggers tore apart not too long ago. We'll get one dropped off there and then there's one more spot on our little trip. If we're lucky, we'll get back in time to see Bighorner Bob's show tonight," Andy spoke leading the way up a nearby incline.

"Well, you're the boss. I'm just along for the ride," I answered following after him, feeling some relief those bloatflies still hadn't paid us any attention.

"Remember, at least I'm a nice boss compared to some of the fire-breathing assholes you could be stuck working for around these parts...kind of like that old crank up in Anoka, whose executioner costume wasn't all just for show."

"Executioner costume?" I asked cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, everybody wears a costume there. It's the law," Andy answered as we returned to the broken highway, "Apparently that place was the 'Halloween Capital of the World' before the bombs fell."

I said nothing and could only stare at him with wide eyes as we continued on our way to the next stop.

XXXXX

A bullet-riddled sign informed us we were now reaching the community of Pemberton, or more accurately, the cluster of jagged, blackened frames that had once been its houses and businesses. A blackened cloud hung overhead as a heavy wind whistled through and swept up the ash that still blanketed the decaying structures after over 200 years of neglect. Only the cawing of a crow broke the death-like silence of the atmosphere.

The main road leading into the fallen hamlet was littered with the rusted, burned out husks of numerous cars and trucks, most likely abandoned as their owners struggled to escape the impending nuclear disaster. Well, apparently not all of them had escaped as I noticed a skeletonized arm sticking through the shattered driver's side window of a broken down Corvega. I had no time to ponder as Andy grabbed me by the arm and pulled me behind an abandoned taxi for cover.

"Stay alert. There could be raiders nearby. They like to hang out in dingy shit holes like this," he said pulling out his binoculars and scanning the horizon, "Always gotta watch the upper levels for snipers."

I heeded his warning and kept my head down. Gesturing towards me with his thumb he darted for cover behind an abandoned station wagon and then over to an overturned police cruiser, moving from car to car until he reached a one story bungalow with its windows and front door boarded up, following him the entire way straining my ears and eyes for any sudden movements before we came to a halt.

"Anything else I should know?" I asked peering around the corner and noticing the long dried puddles of blood on a garage's exterior wall.

"Shoot first and never ask questions," Andy deadpanned, "They might not seem like much, but believe me those freaks are so coked out of their minds they'd shoot their own mother dead without a second thought. I've seen plenty of guys underestimate them and it's never pretty in the end."

Following his monologue Andy reached for the canteen at his side and unscrewed the cap to take a quick sip before speaking to me from over his shoulder, "So far everything's been clear, but we still have plenty of ground to cover here. We'll need to split up."

He then gestured towards another small bungalow covered in peeling yellow paint and missing its roof, yet having a brick wall to provide adequate cover. "Take that side over there and I'll take this side. We'll meet up at the end of the street. You need anything, yell."

I nodded and peeked around the corner before bolting towards the brick partition and taking a knee, looking over and waiting for Andy to make his move. When he emerged from his hiding spot with rifle drawn, I crept around the wall and began my forward march.

It started with a crouch walk past the neighbor's house (more accurately the pile of splinters it had been reduced to) and then I came upon the weathered picket fence of the adjoining two story dwelling, its walls blown out from all sides with only a creaking frame left behind, yet enough space where someone was able to spray paint _"FUCK OFF ROAD RAGERS!"_ on the side.

Road Ragers? That's something I would have to ask Andy about when I had the free time, but right now I remained focused on the street ahead of me and found a rusted out car parked in the driveway of the next house surrounded by a bunch of suitcases.

It could have just been the 'naive vault dweller' in me, but for some odd reason I was drawn to further investigate and slowly approached with Annie drawn.

It was a decision I instantly regretted as I looked in to find another skeleton with a small pistol clutched in its bony hand, a small hole in the side of its skull.

With a loud gasp I stumbled backwards and found myself falling head over heels as I backed into a picket fence and thrashed about as I became entangled in the frail tines.

"Seventy-Two, are you alright?" I heard the pounding of boots on the pavement and looked over to find Andy rushing towards me.

I didn't answer him as I looked ahead to find more human skeletons littering the earth before me, all seemingly flash fried in their last moment of living. And then I saw the bullet holes and the bludgeon marks, not entirely the case.

"It never does get any easier to look at them," the scout remarked as he helped me back to my feet, knowing what I had seen. He turned to look at the skeletons and bowed his head quietly for a brief moment. "Come on, let's go."

I nodded and resumed my trek along the opposite side of the street, being careful not to make contact with any skeletons scattered around, yet still not able to take my eyes away. I could only wonder what their lives had been like before the end of the world and what their last few moments had been like. It was morbid, yet I could only hope they had not suffered.

As I neared the end I started to notice more graffiti plastered all over the crumbling structures associated with that Road Ragers gang mentioned earlier, some of it favoring them (such as _"ROAD RAGERS OWN THIS LAND!")_ and others opposing them ( _"GO TO HELL ROAD RAGERS!"_ ), even happening across a once baby blue pickup truck with two large red R's outlined in black spray painted on the passenger side door, only to be crossed out by a larger black 'X.'

"Who are these people?" I muttered to myself noting the bullet holes and dried blood on the exterior.

Wait a minute?

I could hear something else coming from the distance – music!

It wasn't just any music, it was a child-like tune, something too soft and innocent for the charred hellhole I was standing in, but from where?

I carefully looked around as I pursued the source of the music, stepping around a few active bear traps, land mines, deep pits, and even noticing a few trip wires in some still standing doorways as I progressed. I didn't know what they were for as I noticed them, yet my gut was telling me it wasn't good when they were low enough to easily trip someone up. For a seemingly uninhabited place this was quite the death trap.

But there was no time to ponder as I traced the tune's source to the broken window of an otherwise largely unmolested one-story green house, sticking out like a sore thumb amid the charcoal landscape. A battered mailbox out front told me this had been the home of the Johnson family, the small metal container now nothing more than a tombstone to a family no longer living there. From what I had seen, they were the only residents fortunate enough to be left with some kind of marker reminding the outside of who had lived there before this long ago war.

I slowly approached the front door and knowing no one would be there to answer if I knocked, I reached for the knob and with a gentle turn eased it open, surprised to find it still unlocked after all this time.

The door wasn't even open more than a crack when I was hit by a blast of musty air that left me wanting to hold my nose, but I waved it off with a heavy shrug and nudged an old tricycle aside before entering the empty home. Aside from the obvious filth and disrepair resulting from over 200 years worth of neglect, the house's interior looked mostly untouched as I walked down a small entry hall and into a spacious open-plan lounge and kitchen to find most of the furniture left in place, yet several pictures and paintings littering the floor. I was getting warmer as the music got louder, yet I found myself distracted by a particular picture lying near the ruined sofa and I knelt down to pick it up.

Sweeping the thick layer of dust away I was met by the black and white image of a family standing before the same house I now inhabited, a smiling father with his two young sons standing in front of him, both in matching baseball uniforms, along with a mother holding an infant daughter in her arms and lastly, a dome-like floating robot with many arms protruding from its chassis. No doubt this had to be the Johnson family in happier times, a living testament to the 'American Dream' of the Old World come to life.

The peaceful image struck a chord and again left me wondering what could have become of my own family – if I even had one.

There had to be someone out there waiting for me, regardless of whether or not they were my blood relatives, just someone who could give me the answers I sought. Surely I had to have an old friend lurking about somewhere, or even some random passerby that had witnessed the attack that had robbed me of my memories.

A loud cawing suddenly broke me out of my reverie and sent me hugging the wall with Annie raised and ready for action. A flutter of wings followed and then there was a cacophony of thumps as numerous heavy objects hit the wooden floor at once. From out of the darkness a solitary crow flew past me and out the front door. After that there was only the soft, innocent tune still playing, beckoning me forth.

Damn it, I got distracted. I could just hear Andy scolding me for getting careless. It was then I realized how hard my heart had been beating and I took a deep breath.

Alright, slow down and focus on what's in front of you.

I slung Annie across my back and pulled out the 10mm, figuring it would be more suitable for close quarters combat if the need arose. Inching my way towards the corner I crept down the narrow hallway with the pistol raised, my sights set on the opened door at the end of the hallway.

Here goes nothing.

I edged the door open to a sight both frightening and heartbreaking.

Splayed out on the floor before me was an adult-sized skeleton reaching weakly for the empty crib before it, now covered in blood with a mobile spinning slowly above it, the source of the music.

The soft, innocent tone did nothing to take away from the sense of dread I felt upon looking at the skeleton, a parent likely rushing to defend their youngest child from a threat that had come barging into their home.

My eyes the fell to the teddy bear lying at the foot of the crib, still left in good shape after all these years and looking back upon me with its beady eyes. I couldn't even begin to think of what had happened to the infant who had once been in that crib and nor did I even want to ponder what could have happened and I exited the child's room, only to walk into another sorrowful sight as I stumbled across another open door leading into the master bedroom.

Lying on the bed I found another adult skeleton with two smaller ones huddled beneath its arms. At last I had known what had happened to the rest of the Johnson family, but not the kind of outcome I looked forward to. Then again, they likely shared the same fate as everybody else who had once inhabited the small community.

But still, the pity was there for a group of strangers I had never even met, a sign of the innocence lost with the decimation.

"Hey Seventy-Two, where are you?" Andy's voice called from outside and I looked through a nearby window to see him jogging in my direction.

"I'm coming," I answered in a hollow monotone and reached up to wipe away the solitary tear rolling down my cheek before making my way back outside to join him.

XXXXXX

The prospector camp had been abandoned in a hurry with the ground still littered in empty glass bottles, rusted tin cans, and spent bullet casings around a long extinguished campfire. We had come across a few abandoned firearms, including a caravan shotgun and 9mm submachine gun, but all weapons had been damaged and an empty ammo box left us further out of luck. Andy managed to scrounge up a few pieces of scrap metal he said could be useful for later, but aside from a few tattered bedrolls, a dinged up pile of pots and pans, and a broken radio there was a whole lot of nothing.

We arrived to find freshly dug holes, a telltale sign the mole rats were there and likely still close by, once again leaving me behind to perform guard duty while Andy made his way into the den to place another one of those repellent bombs.

This den must have been deeper because it was taking him longer and I was getting anxious standing alone, noting more ruins to the east and a few more wrecked cars scattered around, all places that could have provided good cover for those raiders Andy kept warning me about. After that little slip up at the Johnson house I was trying to be on top of things...damn it, I shouldn't be thinking about what I saw back there if I want to stay focused.

Just focus on what's in front of you, damn it. You just woke up today. You don't wanna end up dead already.

Focus. Focus on some little thing to keep you alert and then move on to the next.

Focus on that bird's nest. Focus on that old ambulance. Focus on that peace sign someone spray painted on that dump truck. Focus on the little shadow nearby...

Wait a minute – that shadow?

I drew Annie and took a knee, peering through the scope at the demolished truck and catching sight of the shadow, only for it to suddenly vanish a second later.

"What the hell?" I whispered and looked back to the den debating on whether or not I should call out to Andy, until I noticed another strange form behind an overturned tree, one that would have blended in had it not been for the sudden movement.

Fuck it. I took aim and prepared to fire when I heard the ground giving way behind me and whirled around to be met by what had to be the ugliest fucking creature I have ever seen.

This thing had to be roughly the size of a large dog with a hairless pink body, small red eyes and large tusk-like teeth that looked more than capable of tearing large chunks of flesh away from their prey. This had to be one of those 'mole rats' Andy kept mentioning!

With a loud screech the creature lunged at me with its mouth wide open and I barely had time to move with a desperate roll to the side that sent Annie flying from my hands. The creature was surprisingly fast for its clunky build and was already whirling around and rising to its hind legs ready to slice me open with its sharp claws before I finally managed to draw my sidearm and fire three shots into its chest.

There was no time to see if I had killed it as another mole rat was emerging from the ground behind me ready to take a bite out of my leg, but was quickly dispatched when I fired three rounds into its face.

Still, there was no end to the struggle as I turned towards that splintered tree and my eyes grew wide as saucers.

"You've gotta be shitting me!"

Six of those things were rushing towards me, four adults and two pups, the same murder in all their demonic eyes.

I quickly reached down for Annie and took aim, squeezing the trigger and sending a round flying into the face of an adult, yet the other five still continued after me and were about to close the gap with simultaneous lunges when the rattle of automatic fire cut through the air and two more fell over dead.

Andy had emerged from the den and was taking a knee next to me, cutting down another mole rat in a three shot burst that left one of the pups to stumble over it in an almost comical fashion, only to receive a similar fate as I took aim and put a bullet through its spinal column, leaving it to thrash about wildly before finally succumbing to its injuries.

In another salvo Andy dropped the last mole rat before his rifle clicked empty.

"So those are the mole rats, huh?" I asked staring at the piled up corpses.

"You guessed right," he said keeping his eyes trained on the one closest to him. "Normally we don't have too many threats around Rodeo Plaza outside of these little bastards, that and the rare yao guai sighting."

I still looked down upon the corpses, revolted by their hideous appearance, yet fascinated at how they could have come to be.

"Come on, we still have one more place to visit," Andy spoke as a seemingly dead adult mole rat squeaked with life, only to be snuffed out after the scout drove his bayonet into its skull.

XXXXXX

There was a muffled crack and in less than a split second the last mole rat was falling with a crater in the middle of its face.

"I think that's the last of them!" I called out to Andy reaching up to wipe the fresh sweat pouring down my forehead.

Nearby Andy Ziegers stood tall over three adult mole rats all riddled with bullets, the two of us having just wiped out an entire family of those bothersome pests. He looked around at the ground around him before daring to answer, "So far, so good."

The scout looked into the distance where the sun was just starting to set, turning the sky all sorts of different shades from bright oranges and reds to dark blues and purples. "Come on, we'd better get going before it gets too dark," he said before switching on a small lantern attached to his harness.

"Sure thing," I replied dutifully following after him as he made his way down another dirt path that took us past an abandoned farmhouse and over a hill to where we could see the lights of Rodeo Plaza in the distance.

We also spotted something else that left us raising our guns.

Motioning with a finger to his lips to keep quiet Andy quietly crept towards the body lying at the foot of the hill adjoining the trail and nudged it with his boot, yet got no response. In the dying daylight he was forced to shine his lantern upon the corpse and I jumped back in horror, taking aim on instinct and readying a shot for its rotting cranium.

A skinless, emaciated figure clad in rags lay before us with its mouth wide open in a silent scream, its head twisted at an awkward angle so its soulless white eyes were staring straight at me.

XXXXXX

 _The wind was howling outside, pounding our dwelling hard enough the pitiful plywood walls were threatening to blow away at any second._

 _But those strong winds were the least of our problems._

 _I stood with my back against the wall shivering from the cold on the outside, but more so from the terror within. I had to resist rubbing my hands together to warm myself. Doing so would mean I would have to drop the rifle frozen in my grip._

 _Doing so would mean the rifle would clatter against the stone floor, doing so then would attract those 'things' shuffling about outside._

 _Dad stood towards the front, peeking through a hole punched through by some unseen force from years earlier. He looked back to me with the same gray eyes I had inherited from him, the lower half of his face covered by a protective wrap guarding him from the elements. He had killed his fair share of men over the years, but I saw something in his eyes I wasn't used to._

 _Anxiety._

 _He held the Chinese-made assault rifle close to his chest, but even beneath his heavy coat I was able to see the tremors in his arms._

 _What had him so spooked? He was literally one of the toughest, bravest men I have ever known. I had witnessed him taking down that group of raiders terrorizing the Hendersons all by himself and even snap a rabid dog's neck with his own bare hands. What could have suddenly gotten into him?_

 _And then came that low, guttural snarl, a reminder of why we were all here._

 _I looked to my left where my best friend stood with the father's combat shotgun. He was my age and not that much bigger than me, but still he knew his way around that gun like the back of his hand and how to handle the kind of recoil that gun offered._

 _And then I looked to the flame-haired girl to my right, who knelt protectively in front of the mother and her two small children huddled in the corner, just three of the new faces we had taken in recently. She stood with that hunting pistol she had gotten for her 10_ _th_ _birthday in hand, looking up to me with those wide blue eyes that never failed to lighten my day. Even in this precarious moment she could still bring a smile to my face._

 _And then they came again, the low growls and mutterings that even the heavy winds weren't able to disguise. My breathing intensified and my heart was racing a marathon._

 _They had us surrounded._

 _I couldn't tell how long we had been cooped up in here, but I was sure it was only a matter of time before the storm passed, they always passed, and with it so would they. Those things would eventually give up, wouldn't they? As long as they believed there was nothing in here they would go off in search of something else to devour, that's right isn't it?_

 _Were they even capable of sniffing us out? Some of those things didn't even have noses!_

 _Damn it. I couldn't shake it. I could only think of what would happen once those things managed to somehow get past our pathetic defenses. We had all shot things before, but there were only four of us and who knows how many of them...those disgusting, rotting freaks._

 _What were those things? I had never seen one of them before, but they almost looked human...at least they had at one point._

 _A small grunt was heard and was followed by a chorus of yawns and groans. Could those things actually communicate with each other?_

 _Now I could feel myself locking up in place and even the tiniest of movements was a chore, yet that feeling disappeared in an instant when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and turned to see Ig standing there next to me, a silent nod of assurance to keep me going through all the tension._

 _She had no idea how much this meant to me._

 _And then the little girl gasped aloud in horror as a shadow passed over us._

 _And then there was the rotting face in the hole, followed by a ragged screech – raw, grating, and horrifically inhuman._

XXXXXX

"Seventy-Two, look alive!"

It took a second for my brain to kick in, followed by the rest of my body as I turned to see more of those...things charging at me with a speed and ferocity that shouldn't have been possible with as brittle as their decaying bodies looked. There were four of them altogether, letting out the only kind of grating scream their burned away vocal cords were capable of producing.

Andy took a position next to me and fired upon the approaching quartet, managing to drop one of them while the others continued their blind charge.

"Well, what's it gonna be?" he shouted over to me before firing upon another rotting fiend as it drew dangerously close.

Without a word I took aim on the closest monster's chest for what should be a surefire kill. Taking a deep breath I squeezed the trigger and a muted puff followed as the 5.56mm round flew from the barrel and in less than a split second a crimson splotch appeared on the ghoul's tattered white t-shirt, sending it falling to the ground in a twisted heap.

Andy continued firing away next to me until his service rifle clicked empty, but there was no time for him to reload as the fiend was already on top of him and drawing its arm back to strike at his face. With the reflexes of a trained combatant, the scout brought his rifle up and swung the stock into the creature's jaw to send it falling backwards to the dirt with a dull thud before driving his bayonet down into its left eye socket.

That left one more as another monstrosity clad in the frayed remnants of olive drab combat fatigues made a beeline for me, but somehow I was able to raise Annie and fire another round drilling a fresh hole through its skull.

"Nice shooting," Andy huffed, "You seem to know what you're doing."

Indeed I must have known what I was doing. Those shots were too precise for a rookie, that and I didn't have any overpowering feelings of guilt or queasiness afterward, which I'm sure would be expected of someone carrying out their first kill, be it human, mutant or animal.

"What the fuck are these things?" I asked looking down to Andy's second kill. I had seen one of those freaks in my vision, but I still didn't know what it was, again think of how it almost looked like a skinned human being.

"Shufflers," Andy replied.

"What?" I asked cocking an eyebrow, only to stop as I felt a fresh sting in the right side of my skull.

"They're called 'ghouls.' They're what happens when you're prolonged to radiation sickness for an extended period of time. I've encountered plenty of these freaks during my time out on the road. Gotta watch out for them damn ferals," Andy grunted as he walked over to nudge the side of the dead 'ghoul's' head. "It's strange because we've never had any ghoul sightings around these parts. I wonder what could have drawn them here."

A cluster of gunshots suddenly broke the scout's concentration followed by a man's cries.

"Help me! Somebody help me!"

"That came from over there," Andy said pointing westward with his rifle and started running towards the source of the shouting. "Come on!"

"Right behind you," I called out chasing after him.

It was clear I was following a man who had seen his fair share of battle judging by the way he carried himself and even though I had first met him just a few hours earlier, I was perfectly fine with taking orders from him as we rounded a bend and came to a long abandoned Red Rocket filling station.

"Over there!" he said pointing to an abandoned Nuka Cola tractor unit surrounded by snarling ghouls clawing away at its metal surface.

"That must be where he went," Andy said pulling out a 9mm handgun and screwing both a silencer onto the barrel and an extended magazine modification similar to what Annie had, "I'm gonna try to get up close and I'll need you to cover me," he spoke before looking over to a small generator building with a dumpster next to it, "Try climbing up there for a better vantage point. As soon as the first rotter hits the ground I'm gonna make my move."

"Got it," I said running over and climbing the rusted old dumpster (an easier feat than I thought it would be) and then taking a position atop the small building. I slapped a fresh clip into the old varmint rifle, reminding myself I had eight shots and I needed to make every one of them count.

I peered through the scope to see 7 or 8 of those ghouls surrounding the truck – and that was just on one side – clawing away madly to get inside. It left me wondering if Andy knew what he was getting himself into by trying to go after them with just a pistol, but there was no time to sit and wonder as I saw him getting into position behind the splintered remnants of an old black car. Putting those thoughts aside I took aim.

"Got you in my sights," I whispered focusing on the closest ghoul and squeezing the trigger, the ravenous creature's head exploding in a crimson mist that showered its companions, yet they still banged away hoping to reach the fresh meat trapped inside. That being said, I fired at the next ghoul and dropped it with a round through the neck before dropping the one next to it with a round through its decaying cheek.

I watched as Andy emerged from his hiding spot and dropped two of those walking corpses with methodical precision before a third ghoul finally caught sight and charged at him, only to be dropped as the scout struck it in the head with a pickaxe I had failed to recognize earlier.

Seeing how well he handled himself I turned my attention back to the ghouls and dropped another with a round that blew off the left side of its entire rotting face, even able to make out the black slimy ichor from this distance, making me even happier I wasn't up close. A fifth muted shot was fired and another ghoul fell with its spinal cord shattered, yet its insatiable hunger left it still clawing wildly at the empty air above. I next focused on a ghoul that had somehow managed to scale the truck and was now reaching through a shattered passenger window at the person inside, firing a round through its side before hitting it again in the side of its brittle cranium.

I was down to one shot and I had to use it wisely as I sized up the remaining ghouls. There were about 3 more left on the side I could see, plus the two more Andy managed to drop before making his way around to the other side and driving his pickaxe into the back of another monster's head. It was that action that made the other two finally take notice of him and they charged with reckless abandon.

The scout brought his boot up to kick one of those freaks down while the other had grabbed onto him and was just inches away from biting his ear off before he landed a punch that snapped its head back, yet the monster was relentless in its objective and was about to go for another bite.

"Damn you," I muttered to myself as I struggled to get a bead on the monster's head, knowing it _had_ to connect or else I risked hitting Andy.

Here goes nothing I told myself taking another deep breath and squeezing the trigger.

A red splotch appeared on the ghoul's shoulder and its arm fell limply to its side, giving Andy the precious opening he needed to jam his 9mm's barrel into the monster's mouth and pull the trigger. With that horror dispatched he turned his attention to the two survivors and ended their misery with rounds to the face.

He was alive and I leaped down onto the dumpster and then to the ground and ran over to meet up with him, stopping when he shot me an awkward gaze.

"What the fucking hell, man? You almost fucking shot me!" he gasped while noticing the dark blood splashed onto his jacket.

"Hey! I had to act! I'm sorry, but that thing was going to bite you," I said raising my hands defensively.

Andy said nothing, giving me a long hard stare of bewilderment and breathing so loud they could likely hear him all the way back to the gates of Rodeo Plaza. It took some time before he finally composed himself and spoke, "You're either very fucking lucky or very fucking crazy...," he grunted before offering a curt nod, "...but thanks!"

I watched him make his way over to the rusted tractor unit and wrap on the door, "Hey, it's safe to come out now! Those things are dead."

"Wh-What? Who's there?" a voice squeaked from within.

"Just a few passersby. You wanna come out and we'll talk? We're not here to hurt you," Andy answered.

The tractor door creaked open and out stepped a young man with wild red hair and dressed in a tan zipped-up hoodie with matching cargo pants tucked into riding boots. There was a machete strapped to his side and he held an emptied 10mm pistol in one hand and a burlap sack in the other.

"Alright pal, that's far enough!" Andy called out pointing his pistol at the man, "Now if you don't mind me asking, what the hell's going on here?" he demanded with his eyes fixated on the sack.

"Whoa, whoa easy there buddy! I ain't here to cause any trouble!" the man said dropping the empty pistol and lifting the sack, its bottom stained crimson.

"You give out rewards where you come from, don't cha?" the man asked gently placing the sack on the ground before backing away with both hands raised, "You know, bounties for high-ranking raiders? I killed one of 'em and was heading to Rodeo Plaza to collect a reward! You're from there, aren't you?"

Andy kept his gaze firmly locked on the shifty fellow as he slowly inched forward and prodded the sack with his boot.

"Watch him. He tries anything funny, blast him," Andy told me and he knelt down to open the bag, wincing at the raw odor assaulting his nostrils.

"He's not kidding. I recognize this man," he said looking down into the bag, "That's Johnny Bones' head! He's a member of the Road Ragers. The Regulators have had bounties posted on this guy for over a year now."

"Yeah! So do I get a reward or what?" the man blurted out rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Andy still regarded the man warily before he answered, "I'll have Ruby contact the Regulator HQ to set you up with something. They have regulations though. You won't be allowed to leave until they can confirm the suspect's identity."

The man began laughing heartily, "Hey, that's fine by me! Been a while since I've enjoyed a warm meal and a warm bed."

Then Andy turned to face him and his laughter stopped.

"What is your name?" he demanded.

"Crockett, sir. Just call me Crockett!" the man squeaked out.

Making his way over Andy reached down and forcefully removed the machete strapped to the man's side followed by kneeling down and collecting his 10mm pistol along with the spare clip concealed beneath his hooded sweatshirt. "I'll be keeping these. You're going to lead the way back home and until then, we expect you to behave yourself. You try to run away, we're _not_ coming to save your ass again. Understood?"

"Sure man, whatever you say!" the redheaded man blurted out before he noticed me looking at him and went on the defensive.

"What the hell, man?" he asked in an incredulous tone, "Look, I'm just here trying to do a good deed for once! That man was a slimebag and he tried to kill me! I took him down after a very tense struggle and now he's not around to hurt anybody else! Isn't that good enough for you?"

I could only stare at him in great suspicion. There was just something about his story that wasn't entirely adding up.

Here was a fidgety, scrawny man just barely over five feet seven inches who looked like he could barely even lift the deadly blade he had been carrying. How could he possibly kill a big bad ass raider?

"Well screw you then!" Crockett snapped, only to be halted by Andy's threatening gaze.

"You're going to lead the way, aren't you?" he growled at the shady fellow, making him stumble backwards over one of the dead ghouls.

"Yeah! Yeah, I can do that!" the man uttered before turning and walking towards the bright lights of Rodeo Plaza and we followed from a safe distance.

"I've been meaning to ask, who are the Road Ragers?" I asked looking over to Andy, "I saw some of their graffiti back in Pemberton."

"They're what happens when you take a bunch of psychopaths and give them cars. They used to be a tribe called the Scrappers who resided in an old salvage yard north of here, but then Gearhead killed their old chief and turned them into a band of murderers and pillagers," Andy explained before stopping to spit.

"Those fuckers have terrorized and already burned a few other towns to the ground. They've left us alone so far, but even I couldn't tell you why. Still, I doubt they're going to take too kindly to one of their top lieutenants being done in. We're gonna need to warn Gus and Ruby when we get back home," he concluded.

I only offered a nod and for the most part everything was silent as we came back to the gates and could hear the music from within, followed by festive laughter and a few excited hoots and hollers as the moon rose over yonder.


	6. When Hell Comes Knocking

Ch. 5: When Hell Comes Knocking

I sat alone in the motel room staring at the painting over the TV set. It was the only thing that was able to help me block out the loud racket caused by my neighbors having sex in the next room over.

The painting depicted the rather serene setting of a crystal blue lake before a forest full of living, healthy trees topped off by a lush green canopy of leaves. Beyond the woods stood a majestic mountain range with a vibrant blue sky dotted by clouds. It was a look into the past, the kind of peaceful environment that would have been foreign to a world scorched by warfare. Furthermore, I was left wondering if any of the residents had ever seen an actual blooming tree or an unpolluted lake outside of a fictional artistic representation.

Something unusual to be pondering at a time like this, but I guess I just needed some little thing to distract me from the situation I was in. Maybe that's why all these paintings were here, to give people a diversion from the harsh wastes around them.

At least it had done that until I fell backwards onto the soft bed beneath me.

If it hadn't been for my bothersome neighbors I would have been asleep hours ago. This queen size bed was much nicer than the one in Doc Graham's house.

Hell, this whole room was probably much nicer compared to most of the other places around town.

Thanks to the combined haggling efforts of Andy, Ruby and Doc Graham, Gus had agreed to set me up with a room in the motel itself rather than putting me in one of the commons tents, figuring it would give me some much needed privacy from all the dogged curiosity seekers who were still coming up to me like I was some kind of sideshow attraction and asking me "What was vault life was like?"

The room was nicely furnished where in addition to the queen size bed there was also a sofa, table and chairs, a television (which no longer worked and was more so used as a display piece), a wardrobe and a few footlockers for storing equipment. There was also an attached bathroom with working plumbing that supplied clean water (thanks to the community's water purifier) and a fully stocked first aid box I'm sure would come in handy later on.

In spite of the amenities surrounding me, the racket caused by my neighbors was starting to become too big to ignore and I knew I wouldn't be able to get any sleep as long as they kept at it. With no other options I did the next thing best thing to come to mind and I stepped outside.

The moon shone high in the nighttime sky casting a pallid glow over the community broken only by the occasional lamplight. A gentle breeze was afoot and accompanied by a rather pleasant smell that almost reminded me of that Abraxo cleaner Lucy used back at the good doctor's house. Whatever it was, at last I could focus again and I heard some upbeat folksy music playing in the distance.

We were approaching the middle of the night, but I figured "Eh, what the hell?" It wasn't like I was doing much anyway. I couldn't sleep thanks to the neighbors, so I made my way down the stairs and towards the source, maybe see a few familiar faces in the process.

The trek wasn't long and took me through the marketplace where the stands had closed down for the night, yet a few of the vendors remained to socialize with the locals. Not too far away there was a bonfire in an open space close to Vannah's Diner where the busker Bighorner Bob was singing a song about the hard life on the range. In addition to his small band he was now joined by the junk vendor, who had pulled out a harmonica for a solo of his own as the audience clapped along.

I looked over to see Andy seated at a small circular table enjoying a cold drink along with Stanzi and a few others, all of them laughing their asses off as one of the patrons told a dirty joke and leaving the scout struggling to maintain his grip on the mug in hand. At the same time they were all still carrying their guns as a precaution following Gus' decree once we had made our return and warned him of the Road Rager presence, reminding me I had left Annie back in the motel room. I still had both the 10mm and my pocket knife on me, so it wasn't like I'd be too defenseless if something came up and I wasn't able to get back to her in time.

Seeing the good time they were having I was about to go over and join them when I looked over and saw Lucy Graham sitting alone on a nearby bench. She looked like she had been there to watch the band perform, but when I got a closer look it seemed like she was off in another world. Something was bothering her and left me wondering so I walked over and took a seat next to her.

The young woman jumped when she sensed my presence, but quickly calmed herself when she looked over to see it was just me. "Oh, hey!" she blurted out before quickly looking away in embarrassment.

I could only manage a grunt of my own and we both sat there in an awkward silence for a few seconds before I spoke up, "So...I'm surprised to see you out this late."

Lucy looked back at me from the corner of her eye. Even in the orange glow of the bonfire I could tell her cheeks were slightly red and I waited patiently as she gathered her thoughts.

"I didn't expect you to be out this late either," she hurriedly replied, still not making eye contact with me, "I trust you are settling in well?"

"Yeah, everything's been going fine thus far," I replied clasping my hands together.

She was visibly bothered by something and whether or not it was my business, I still couldn't help by feel curious. After everything she and her father had done for me over the past few days I was left feeling like I should do what I could to help her, yet knew I would have to be careful in my approach.

"So...has everything been going alright for you?" I asked, steeling myself for any defensive actions that were sure to follow.

Instead she looked down to the ground and muttered "No...it's Eli."

"That guy from the diner?"

She nodded while still staring downward.

"What about him?"

There was a tense silence as Lucy's lower lip began quivering and she took some time to compose herself before speaking, "I think he's gone and gotten himself into something really bad."

She crossed her arms and held herself close before she continued, "He had been disappearing for longer periods of time then expected and when he came back he had lots of caps, a lot more than he would ever make in the diner. I asked him what was up with that, but he just blew me off and walked away. I've known him for years and he's never done that to me before," she said finally looking up, the fear evident in her brown eyes.

Another pause followed before she inched closer to me and continued, "I was over to his house looking for him while you were away. Nobody was home when I got there, but the back door was left open, right near his room," she paused before taking a deep breath, "I didn't want to do it, but I was worried."

"What happened?" I asked.

More tense moments of silence followed before Lucy forced herself to speak, "He has a safe beneath his desk, but he forgot to close it...I found a stash of chems. Mentats, Psycho, Hydra, Jet, Buffout, Rocket...you name it, it was there, but I don't know where he could have gotten it all from or how he managed to get it past the gates. Not only that, I found an entire list of people he named as buyers."

By now she was visibly trembling and gently rocking herself back and forth and when she looked back up at me I could see the tears creeping from the corners of her eyes.

"I'm scared," she murmured.

"Take it easy," I said placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Do you suspect anyone else knows?"

"No," she muttered shaking her head and again looking up, "His mother would never believe me and I can't tell Gus or Ruby because they would throw him out. I can't let him go on like this, but I don't know what else to do. I'm scared something's going to happen to him."

"Maybe I can talk some sense into him," I suddenly spoke aloud.

Wait – Did I just hear myself right?

Lucy's eyes quickly lit up, "Really? You would do that? Oh my goodness, thank you so much! That would truly mean a lot," she spoke before her expression again faltered, "but please, just don't hurt him."

I could only give her a curt nod, still surprised at what I had just done.

"I'll see what I can do," I said rising back to my feet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

What the hell had I just gotten myself into? Why wasn't I letting Lucy handle this problem by herself? I didn't know Eli very well, so why should I have been concerned about trying to get him to give up dealing chems?

But here I was making my way down a mostly deserted street searching high and low for the young man, this walled-in community larger than I had expected.

"Where are you?" I whispered before bobbing and weaving around a few stumbling drunks fresh off a late night binge.

A ha!

In the light of a lantern I was able to make out the same grungy-haired man from the diner disappearing behind a small house with a knapsack slung over his shoulder. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one else was around and was about to enter the narrow alleyway, but was sent for cover behind a stack of wooden crates just as another familiar face appeared.

"Crockett?" I asked myself, noting the fiery red hear that called out like a beacon in the darkness. I waited for him to walk past me and when I was confident I was out of earshot I crept after him, coming to a halt when I heard voices.

"Alright, I've got what you need here. The 'party time' variety just like you requested," Eli spoke.

"Alright, just gimme some dammit!" Crockett's scratchy tone followed.

"Hold it right there. You know how I do business, you show me the caps, I show you the goods," Eli replied.

"Aw c'mon man, you know what I told you!" Crockett groaned, "I can get you some caps, but I've gotta wait 'til I get that reward for offing that Road Rager guy."

"But nothing!" Eli shot back, "I've got a business to run here and I'm not going to deal with someone who can't pay their tab. Either you give me what I want, or else we're finished."

"Well then give me some bobby pins and I can get you some caps in no time. I'm sure there still gotta be some people hanging at your mom's diner, or anybody else who could still be out and about at this time of night. You know this place better than I do," Crockett grunted with impatience.

I had heard enough and stepped into the open, causing both men to nearly jump out of their skins and Eli to spill his chems out all over the ground.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" the man asked staring at me closely, wondering if he recognized me from earlier, while Crockett began looking around hurriedly like he was expecting an entire army to descend upon him.

"I could ask you the exact same thing," I replied crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes at the man before looking over to Crockett, "Fancy running into you again so soon. Hmmm, seems you're more familiar with this place than you would like to let on."

"Oh...oh god!" Crockett blurted out as he stumbled backwards into another stack of crates and sent them tumbling over with a loud crash that even startled Eli and sent him tripping over his own feet.

"C'mon Eli, you never saw me here and you never heard anything!" the shady drifter blurted out now backed into a corner and holding himself close.

I ignored the chem addict and looked back to an unnerved Eli, who reached down for a pistol but found nothing there. It wasn't long before Crockett was sent scuttling out of the alley, leaving the two of us alone.

"Eli, what are you doing? Don't you know you're going to get yourself in trouble if you keep this up?" I said snatching the bag away from him.

"Hey man, you just mind your own business!" he shouted back, "Who the hell do you even think you are anyway? You're just some random chump who got lucky Andy's group was there when they were!" His tone was aggressive, yet I could see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes.

"It might not be my business, but Lucy is worried about you," I replied before letting the bag fall to the ground.

Eli opened his mouth to speak, yet nothing came out and he looked away in shame.

"It's hopeless," he grumbled to himself slinking against the building in defeat.

"What's hopeless? What are you hoping to accomplish from this?" I demanded.

"I don't know...I just want to get away. There's nothing left for me here except for some dead end job and still living at my mom's house, but I don't know what else to do. I just need to get some caps so I can move somewhere else. Ugh, who the fuck am I kidding? I guess that's not gonna be happening now," he said looking up to me, his eyes now full of dread, "You're not going to tell Gus, are you?"

I shook my head.

"I'm sure there is still something for you here. If not for you, then at least there's gotta be something you can do for Lucy. I mean it, she knows and she's worried about you."

Eli again looked down to the ground and shook his head, "I don't believe it. Have I really been this selfish all this time? My god...I mean Lucy, my mom, everybody else here...God I was so stupid!"

I reached down to place an assuring hand on his shoulder, "You're not too far gone, Eli. You can still turn things around, but first you need to get rid of these chems before they can hurt someone else."

"You're right," he said picking the sack up and reaching down to gather the scattered chems, "I'm gonna do just that. I'm gonna take these out and fucking bury them somewhere no one will ever find them. Thanks a lot for your help. I truly mean it."

"Any time," I nodded, "Why don't I come along with you? It's late out and you could use the protection.

"Uh yeah, why don't you?" Eli said nodding towards me as we made our way back onto the open street.

At this moment I didn't know who I was supposed to feel more impressed for, Eli for choosing to give up his shady side job, or myself for being able to peacefully convince him just like that.

Was I really that silver tongued before the attack? If so, then who knows what else I accomplished.

"Man, I'm so looking forward to getting rid of these," he said motioning to the bag, "I can't believe I let it come down to this. I mean, what if my mother had found out. God, I can't believe I was this stupid."

"It's alright. You've made a mistake, but now you're going to learn from it. It's a good thing I got to you when I did," I said walking alongside him, "If you don't mind me asking, did you know that Crockett guy back there?"

"Yeah, met him a few years back on a supply run," Eli nodded, "He's always trying to get rich quick. With all the junkies around these parts, if he were any smarter he'd be a damned millionaire right now. Met some other shady characters through him too. Goddamn it, I shouldn't have listened to him. I should've turned and ran the other way, bastard's gonna get us both killed."

"He won't if you don't let him," I replied as another weary traveler pulled a Sleipnir past them.

"I hope not," Eli said as the main gate came into view, where a guard stood on duty with an assault rifle in hand and another was positioned on a nearby roof with sandbag fortifications set up.

The second guard was peering through his binoculars when he suddenly jumped and called to his colleague on the ground, "We've got someone coming towards us and he looks hurt...holy shit! Virgil, open the gate! It's Ralphie!"

Eli and I came to a halt as the first guard sprung to life and proceeded to open the gate as his colleague barked orders into a walkie-talkie. Less than a second later the ringing of a bell permeated the relatively calm atmosphere and several people emerged from their homes with their guns ready.

Andy came rushing through the throng to help Virgil open the gate, just in time for a badly wounded Hispanic man to come stumbling through.

"Oh shit, Ralphie!" he shouted, catching the man before he could fall face first to the ground. "Help me with him!" he ordered the guard and he reached down to throw the man's other arm around his shoulders.

The young man's entire upper torso was covered in a layer of fresh blood, compliments of the quintet of bullet holes gushing crimson through ragged holes in his once forest green shirt. How he had even managed to make it to the front gate on his own two feet was a miracle, yet the thick red globs he spat did not paint a hopeful picture.

"Somebody get Doc Graham!" Andy shouted to the concerned onlookers as he and Virgil attempted to help the man along.

"Road Ragers," Ralphie weakly gurgled before collapsing.

"Oh fuck, c'mon hang in there, buddy. Help is on the way!" Andy gasped desperately reaching down to help the dying man back to his feet.

"Louie...Dicky...Walt...they killed them all..." Ralphie choked out before breaking into a violent coughing fit.

"Don't talk, man. Save your strength," Andy exclaimed as he still tried to pull the man back to his feet, but it was too late.

"Ralphie? Ralphie?" he shouted to the man's prone form, but there was no reply, "C'mon Ralphie, don't you fucking die on me! Don't you fucking die on me!"

"Oh shit, close the gates! Close the gates!" the rooftop guard shouted from his perch.

Our focus was diverted to the opened gates, where in the distance we could see a number of vehicles approaching with their lights shining on us, the rumble of their engines sounding as if an army numbering in the thousands was descending upon the community.

A few of the locals dashed past Andy and the dying Ralphie to close the gates, yet there was no relief as the vehicles drew closer and the thunderous cacophony left me wincing as a fresh wave of pain surged through my head.

"Alright, alright, everybody get back!" I heard a voice calling out and I shot one of my eyes open to see Gus Morgan pushing his way through the crowd until he emerged at the front and turned to address some armed citizens standing nearby, "Be ready for anything," he said to them before looking to everyone else, "The rest of you, return to your homes immediately! I repeat, return to your homes immediately!"

With his orders given the motel owner ascended the wooden ramp to see what was waiting for them outside.

 _"Whoever's in charge here, speak up now or else we're coming in!"_ a voice barked from the other side, a metallic tinge following every word.

Gus eyed the visitors warily before looking down to Ruby, who now stood near me with her rifle at the ready. He nodded and she turned to the armed citizens standing next to her and with a wave of her hand they made their way into the two story building behind them. I don't know if she was aware of my presence, but I followed after them and was soon standing at an opened window that gave me a perfect view of what we were dealing with.

My bowels nearly emptied at the sight.

A flat-nosed semi-tractor waited at the gates, flanked by two smaller pickup trucks, three cars, and several more thugs on motorcycles. At the front of the pack was a massive man on a motorcycle with a machine gun mounted atop its sidecar, wearing spiked shoulder pads and having hair styled into a foot tall blood red Mohawk that could have made a deadly weapon unto itself.

 _"C'mon, we haven't got all fucking night!"_ the massive man shouted into an electric megaphone.

 _"I am, Gus Morgan. What do you fellas want?"_ Gus called back over his own megaphone.

 _"Don't play dumb with us, bitch boy. We know you're hiding that little piece of shit that killed our brother so I'm only gonna say this once, hand over Crockett or else the Road Ragers are gonna roll in and burn your fucking shit hole to the ground!"_ the man boomed, followed by the honking of horns and the bloodthirsty whooping and hollering of his cohorts.

I felt the ball of ice growing in my stomach as I remembered Crockett, that shady little man we had rescued from certain doom at that abandoned filling station. Even back then I had gotten an untrustworthy vibe from him when he claimed to have killed that Road Rager all by himself, and I think even Andy had, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave that man to stand alone in the harsh landscape beyond the walls.

And now here we were about to pay for it when his buddies found out. But how could they have found out?

When I looked down and saw the punks riding around on the dirt bikes a theory popped into my head, maybe they had someone tailing him. Damn it, why did Andy have to allow him to come along?

But then again, I doubt anybody would be too quick to listen to a guy waking up with amnesia.

 _"Well, what's it gonna be dickhead? You gonna turn that little rat bastard over and we finish this now, or we roll in and kill you all 'til we find him? You've got ten seconds to turn him over!"_ the giant shouted.

Ruby and the others all looked nervously to one another and I looked out the nearest window to see Gus shouting back and forth with some of the locals while the Mohawked giant began his countdown.

 _"One!"_

"Somebody find him damn it! That little prick couldn't have gotten far!" Andy shouted rising to his feet.

 _"Two!"_

"You'd better think up something fast, Gus. I don't think those bastards have any intention of letting us off either way," Ruby said clenching her rifle close to her chest.

 _"Three!"_

The buzz of a little motor rang out and I looked down to see one of the dirt bike thugs raising a chainsaw-like device into the air.

 _"Four!"_

There was a bone-jarring shatter of glass and we all turned to find a skittish man in the room knocking over a shelf lined with pottery and glasses before he tucked himself into the corner trying to make himself as small as possible.

 _"Five!"_

"C'mon Bumper, I wanna kill something damn it!" an overzealous raider called to the Mohawked giant.

 _"Six!"_

I looked back down to the street where Andy now stood with his rifle trained on the front gate, ready to gun down anything that came storming through.

 _"Seven!"_

To my left a middle-aged woman wearing a red plaid head wrap was knelt in a corner clutching a crucifix in her hands, muttering a prayer to herself as the demons cackled madly outside.

 _"Eight!"_

The townspeople outside looked around frantically for any sign of Crockett, their time almost up.

 _"Nine!"_

My heart thundered in my chest and the sweat poured down my forehead as I stared down the amassed army waiting beyond the walls, wondering if I had woken up for nothing. Was this my fate, to die a man without a name?

 _"Ten!"_ the giant boomed and his colleagues began laughing madly, _"Ready or not, hell's a comin' knockin'!"_

The blare of the semi's horn drowned out all other noises as the metal behemoth made its charge for the front gates and I could hear my mind screaming at me to move, but my body was deaf to its demands and I stood rooted in the same spot up until the earsplitting crash as the front gates were reduced to splinters.


	7. Burning Rage

Ch. 6: Burning Rage

The building's foundation was rocked by an unseen force and in an instant I was on my back staring up to the cracked ceiling above me.

"Is everybody alright?" I heard Ruby call out to the others, yet my attention was drawn outward by the flurry of gunfire, and then there were the explosions, the dying screams of those who stayed behind to fight, and the roaring din of that truck's horn.

"Burn everything to the fucking ground!" a frenzied voice called out over the ruckus.

Glass shattered, followed by a sudden whoosh and then an overpowering warmth. I turned my head and found myself blinded as my eyes met the wall of fire.

"C'mon, ain't no time for a cat nap!" Ruby shouted as I felt her hands latching on and pulling me back to my feet in a surprising show of strength. I was still somewhat wobbly and needed to brace myself against a table as she turned to address the others, "Come on, we have to go!" she said kicking a door open with her lever-action repeater in hand.

"But the raiders!" one voice called from the huddled mass of frightened residents, all of them sharing the same expression of terror and bewilderment.

"But we have no other choice," Ruby shot back looking towards the flames now engulfing the room and the unbearable heat paired with the suffocating black smoke. "Come on, we have to get out before this whole place comes down!"

I didn't wait to see if the people were going to follow us out and I made my way down the stairs and entered a street now blanketed with the bodies of the brave souls who had stayed behind to fight the invaders, some felled by gunfire and others mowed down by that gargantuan semi-truck, whose horn again threatened to make my ears bleed before it was replaced by the screams, gunshots, explosions and crackling fire. It was a blood-curdling shriek coming from nearby in particular that made Ruby spring into action as she emerged behind me.

"Over there!" she shouted and I rushed after her with my 10mm at the ready as we made our way into a narrow alley to find a grubby raider with a woman pinned to the ground and in the middle of tearing her pink dress open. The sheriff wasted no time and leveled her repeater, firing a shot into the man's bare chest.

We ran over to the woman and pulled the dead body off of her, but she looked past us clawing away at the ground in front.

"Please, one of those freaks took my daughter! You have to stop him!" she begged still reaching towards the nearest building, only to be halted by Ruby.

I don't know what possessed me, but I ended up rushing towards the building despite Ruby's pleas and kicked the door open to find a lone raider wearing a hockey mask and makeshift body armor constructed from street signs holding a little girl close by with a large serrated combat knife to her throat.

"Now, now there. You really don't wanna hurt this little girl, do ya'?" the man snickered to me. I couldn't see it due to the mask, but the crazy look in his eyes let me know he was grinning at me underneath, squeezing the child's neck hard enough to make her gasp.

"Just turn around and walk away, little man. I promise to take good care of her" the raider snorted.

I just stood quietly with my 10mm handgun trained on the masked menace, quietly contemplating my next course of action as my focus darted back and forth between his face and the blade against the girl's throat, crusted over with the blood of previous victims.

"Shh, it's okay sweetheart. Daddy promises to take good care of you," the masked madman whispered to his hostage.

Come on, you have to do something I screamed to myself.

And then there was the cry of another little girl that left me squeezing the trigger in a knee jerk reaction.

Before I knew it I was looking down at my masked enemy, flat on his back with a hole in the middle of his plastic mask and a small pillar of smoke billowing from the barrel of my gun.

I had just killed a man.

"Seventy-Two," I heard Ruby calling from behind, yet my gaze remained on the dead man at my feet, so intent I was blocking out the joyous reunion taking place between the woman and her daughter. It took the sheriff grabbing me hard by the arm to snap me out of it.

"Come on, there's more of those bastards out there," she shouted in my ear before turning to the two survivors, "Stay here and try to hide."

Having regained control I followed the law woman back onto one of the main streets where we happened across a few of the locals engaged in a firefight with the Road Ragers. There were large boxes and a few sandbag fortifications they had taken cover behind, the defenders armed with rifles, shotguns, revolvers, and one guy carrying an assault rifle, while the raiders in the distance were mostly carrying crude, homemade guns that looked to be constructed from pipes. I ducked behind a makeshift wall made from sheet metal next to a fellow wearing a beaten up fedora while Ruby took cover behind a Sunset Sarsaparilla crate.

"You're all going to die either way ya' cunts!" a Road Rager carrying a spiked baseball bat cackled before his buddies unleashed a fresh flurry upon our defenses and in turn a few of the guys popped out to return fire and managed to drop two of the raiders, yet little was done to deter them as a once baby blue pickup truck sped into view and more ravenous pillagers emerged from the wooden-walled flatbed behind the cab.

My sights settled upon a particular fellow in spiked shoulder pads who frothed from the mouth like a rabid dog, reaching into his belt and pulling out a pipe that had been lined with wires and had a small battery attached.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Ruby shouted upon seeing the device as the maniac drew his arm back to toss it at us, struggling to fire at him while running backwards with her long, bulky repeater. So far trusting her instincts had proven good for me and I chased after her along with a few others just as the pipe bomb hit the ground and another explosion rang out that sent me pulling myself over a vendor's wooden table for cover. When I peeked over I could see the fedora guy reaching out towards me with heart-wrenching cries of agony, his legs shredded by the blast.

"You sons of bitches!" Ruby shouted raising to her feet to return fire, but already the Road Ragers were closing in on us with weapons raised high above their heads and a collective battle cry shaking us to the core. With the realization we were outgunned and outnumbered, a wiry man wearing biker goggles and a pre-War baseball cap grabbed her and pulled her back with me following close behind.

"C'mon," the man shouted leading us down another alleyway and onto a narrow street lined with burning buildings, "I know a safe place, Ruby," he was saying just as the revving of a dirt bike motor interrupted him and we were met by another raider wearing an armor-plated motorcycle helmet with two horns sticking out from the sides, a chainsaw-like weapon buzzing loudly in his hand as he made his charge down the cluttered path.

"Dinner time!" the madman hollered as he closed in.

I raised my gun to fire, but he was like a lightning bolt and before I knew it I was staring at the two large red R's spray painted on the front.

"Look out!" the man shouted to me and a second later I was knocked to the ground, landing hard on my chest with an 'oomph' that knocked the air out of my lungs, just as the bike whizzed past me.

My world was rocked and it took some time for my vision to readjust before I found myself looking into the man's eyes.

"Come on, we have to – " I was about to say when I noticed the nameless fellow's mouth hanging open and my eyes wandered down to find his head separated from the rest of his body.

The man had sacrificed himself to save me.

"Argyle!" Ruby screamed, just as I looked up to see the biker turning around and making a beeline for the sheriff, his revving blade ready for another taste of blood.

I was still in too much pain to move, but I summoned the strength to raise my arm and squeeze the trigger, a round sailing harmlessly past the oncoming terror. Damn it, I huffed and pulled the trigger again, this time firing a round that popped the dirt bike's front tire and sent it bounding out of control. I could only watch briefly as the driver struggled to maintain control, but a loud crash told me his efforts had proven futile.

The bigger concern was getting back to Ruby when I saw her forced into cover behind another large crate, raising her repeater for the occasional pot shot at the Ragers who had her pinned down. So far she had been handling herself pretty well, but her luck was bound to run out if I didn't act fast and so I took aim and fired another round that punched through the chest of a lanky thug wielding a sawed-off shotgun, the street sign he used as a crude breastplate doing nothing to protect him.

I had succeeded in creating a small opening for Ruby as the Rager's colleagues were distracted by him falling and she was able to take aim and drop two more of those mangy pillagers with two carefully placed rounds.

The semi's horn blared again, telling us the juggernaut was closing in and I watched as Ruby made her way towards another small dwelling and I chased after her again and came to a halt as she bent down in front of the doorknob.

"Cover me," she ordered while pulling out a bobby pin and with a nod I stood guard while she jimmied the lock open, just in time for me to be blinded by the massive truck's headlights.

"Come on," she said pulling me inside and slamming the door shut behind us, yet we were startled by a woman's cry of surprise and whirled around with our weapons drawn.

It was Lucy Graham standing protectively over a wounded Eli, his pant leg stained crimson by a bullet wound just above his left kneecap. Aside from them there were three small children and an elderly woman with a caravan shotgun she looked like she wouldn't have even been able to use herself, her hands shaking uncontrollably while she looked us over.

"Oh, Sheriff Stone it's you," the young woman said breathing a quiet sigh of relief and then looking over to me, "Seventy-Two, thank goodness you're alright."

"Thanks," I nodded as Ruby made her way over to the couch to check on the wounded Eli, pulling the crimson cloth aside to inspect his wound.

"Shit, this looks bad and I don't have anything with me," the sheriff grunted before looking back and noticing the pack strapped to my back, "Seventy-Two, what about you? You think you've got something that can help?"

The light bulb went on in my head as I remembered the stimpaks in my back when they first found me. Quickly I set the pack down and fished out one of the syringes along with the roll of bandages. I handed them both to Ruby and watched as she jabbed the needle into the young man's bullet wound, the hiss of pressurized gas following as she depressed the plunger.

"Ohh...thank you," Eli weakly groaned.

"Don't be thanking me yet," Ruby replied as she began wrapping the bandage around the wound, "We'll be needing to get you to the good doctor, and fast."

"My dad," Lucy whimpered, "He's still back at the house. We need to get over to him, but those raiders out there..." she trailed off holding herself close.

"Damn it. He's all the way across town and we don't know how many of those freaks are running around out there," Ruby grunted before checking over the number of bullets she still carried on her, the crestfallen expression afterward letting me know things weren't good.

"I'll go check on him," I spoke up, inviting wary gazes from those in attendance.

"Are you serious?" Ruby asked looking at me in bewilderment, "No offense, but you woke up with a pretty nasty head injury and I doubt you're in much of a position to be fighting a bunch of murdering bastards out there all by yourself."

Perhaps she did have a point.

I've just awoken into this strange new world with no memory of my name or my past and here I am already finding myself thrust into the middle of a battle.

I shouldn't be in this position, should I? I've just woken up from what could have been a potentially life threatening injury. Shouldn't I still be back relaxing in Doc Graham's infirmary?

But then I thought of the kindly old doctor and his lovely daughter, both of whom had shown the kindness to take in a stranger left on Death's doorstep and treat his injuries, bathe and groom him, give him a meal, and most importantly, reunite him with some of his old mementos that provided him some direction, which he so desperately needed given his circumstances.

I had to make sure he was safe and I needed to help the people of Rodeo Plaza stand up to these 'Road Ragers.'

I don't seem to take too kindly to innocent folk being intimidated by those who would wish to do them wrong. I'm getting the urge to help stand up to these slimebags and send them back to the hole they crawled out of.

Maybe I'm supposed to be a good guy after all and I had to wonder if that medal from my pack was supposed to be a reward for some kind of previous altruistic endeavor.

"Well I want to try," I said looking over to Lucy, "He has already helped me out a great deal and I want to return the favor. It won't be easy, but somebody's gotta do it."

Ruby gave me a hard stare and muttered to herself "Damn it, I'm going to hate myself for doing this," before she rose to her feet, "Just be careful out there. Those freaks mean business. Don't hesitate for one second to put them out of their misery."

"Good luck," Lucy nodded to me before resuming her protective vigil over the wounded Eli.

Nodding back to them I made my way back outside, quickly ducking for cover as I heard more gunshots and cries of the wounded dangerously close to me. It would be easier said than done, but I needed to get over there fast. I looked down to my 10mm to see I still had a few bullets on me along with an extra clip, but I would need more firepower and running back to my motel room to get Annie wasn't an option.

I just had to keep on moving through the fire and bloodshed to reach my destination with my wits and whatever else I could find.

I took a left turn onto another small street where I found another one of those filthy savages in the middle of mutilating a fallen defender's corpse with a fire axe. I could tell from the gunfire and loud banter that more of those Road Ragers were still close and I didn't want to risk drawing their attention.

Then I remembered the pocket knife and I pulled it out, creeping silently towards the madman (resisting the urge to clamp my hand over my nose thanks to his rancid odor) and when I was close enough I leaped onto his back and clamped my free hand over his mouth, jamming the blade into the side of his neck.

"Take that you sick bastard," I muttered as the thug collapsed like a sack of potatoes. It was a gruesome sight, but I was more intent on the fallen defender when I noticed the shotgun laying next to him and picked it up, only to find it both broken and out of ammo.

Then there was the bag slung over the fallen raider's shoulder. I knelt down and opened it to find some random medical supplies along with two additional clips for my 10mm. Both items would be useful and I slipped the clips into my belt and was just about to take the bag when I heard rumble of a car's engine and quickly retreated to the shadows.

A two-door coupe came rolling onto the narrow street, its rusted, bullet-riddled body taking up so much of the space I almost felt like I would be crushed even as I hid in the narrow alcove to the side, yet somehow I was spared from such a fate as it passed me by and came to a halt in front of the dead Road Rager.

"Aw damn it, Stitch," a man's voice called out as two raiders stepped out of the car, a man with green highlights in his shaggy black hair who had been driving, and a pink-haired woman armed with a pump-action shotgun.

"Fucking idiot went and got himself killed," the woman remarked prodding the fresh corpse with her steel-toed boot.

They practically had me blocked in and I would have no choice but to fight my way out. I sized up both the raiders and determined the woman would be the bigger problem as she had a shotgun that could pick me off from a distance, whereas the guy appeared to have nothing more than a pair of spiked knuckles on. Keeping my pocket knife ready, I drew my 10mm pistol and held both weapons at the ready as the woman approached.

I did a mental countdown as she closed in and with my knife raised above me I prepared to strike – and then a battered sedan came into view from the other side.

"Well yummy, yummy in my tummy!" a thug called out emerging from the other car along with three companions, "Fresh meat boys!"

All eyes were on me in an instant as the two raiders whirled around with their weapons raised and I barely had time to fire a round into the shotgun-toting woman's throat before the others were converging upon me with guns blazing.

"Get that cocksucker!" one of them shouted as I found myself bolting away in a half-crouched run, barely avoiding the bullets ripping the walls apart above me.

With my mind racing the only constant thought was reaching the Graham house and I kept running westward and down another street being systematically torn apart as the residents of Rodeo Plaza engaged in a bitter struggle with the invading Road Ragers, the band of marauders gaining the upper hand as the defenders struggled to keep up with their mounted members racing back and forth at a frenetic pace, thus creating the openings they needed to methodically cut their opponents by the number.

I didn't know if I would have enough ammo to help them engage the thugs, nor did I think Doc Graham would have much time left if I didn't hurry.

It also didn't help matters much when one of the raiders hoisted a tubular weapon onto his padded shoulder.

"Oh shit! That guy's got a missile launcher!" I heard a frightened survivor call out.

"Scatter!" screamed another and we all split up.

I ran for the nearest door and was thankful to find it unlocked, only to collide with a wall of red and find myself lying on my back for the umpteenth time this night with my pistol clattering from my hand as another thunderous explosion resounded behind me, leaving my ears ringing and my vision clouded as my head throbbed.

Yet all it took was a good hard kick to the side to snap me back to reality and I found four of those vile Road Ragers standing tall over me.

"Time to die, pretty boy!" laughed a raider with a heavily-defaced _'STOP'_ sign as an improvised shield in one hand and a handmade machete in the other. My pistol lay just inches away from me and I shot my hand out to grab it and put him out of his misery, only to have it kicked away.

"Sucks you gotta die. You're actually kinda' cute with that big scar on your head," a woman laughed harshly, the goggles attached to her leather skull cap hiding the blood lust in her eyes.

A Rager wearing a stitched together burlap hood with three tufts of hair sticking out pointed a carbine in my face, but was halted by the fourth man, a fellow wearing crude bulky armor crafted from sheet metal.

"Are you fucking kidding me? That would be too quick and painless!" the armored man spat producing a sword crafted from a rusty car bumper, "We need to make...him...suffer!" he spat, his call followed by a round of fiendish hooting and hollering.

No, not like this my mind screamed as I took in the maniacs dancing around above me.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

But then there was this strange high-pitched whistle and the impromptu celebration was cut short as the armored thug fell next to me with a spike protruding from his left eye socket. A loud _'zowntch'_ followed and I looked up to see the woman glowing white hot for half a second before she was reduced to a smoking pile of ash. The masked man whirled around and raised his carbine to fire, but the other shooter was quicker and a red light struck him head on, sending him falling backwards with a cauterized hole in the middle of his chest.

The machete thug started to panic upon seeing his friends fall dead next to him and I seized the opportunity to grab my pistol and fired into his back until my gun clicked empty and he was down on the ground with his friends.

I pushed myself back to my feet with my gun raised, but backed down when I recognized the same junk vendor who had been performing with Bighorner Bob's band just minutes earlier, now wearing a motorcycle helmet and carrying a strange homemade weapon that looked like some kind of rifle. He was joined by a young woman in a plain earth tone dress, yet possessing rather short, stylishly feathered brunette hair lined with purple highlights and carrying a boxy laser rifle.

"Easy there, hombre. We come in peace!" the junk vendor said throwing his hands into the air, "We just saved your ass, y'know."

"Who are you?" I had to shout to them over the ever present rattle of gunfire.

"Harry Hoarder's the name, prospecting's the game," he replied in an amiable tone bordering on delusional given the violence surrounding us, "You call it junk, I call it profit," he continued before he was interrupted by the woman.

"Save the shtick for later," she said checking her microfusion cells, "We got more of those freaks out there, but if it keeps you more focused on shooting than flapping your gums, I'm Flo and I cut hair around here."

"Well thanks, but I need to get over to Doc Graham's house and make sure he's alright," I said looking down to the raider I just killed and picking up his machete, knowing I would need something that offered more protection as opposed to a dinky pocket knife.

"Looks like you're gonna need all the help you can get," the barber replied, her forceful tone letting me know she would _not_ take no for an answer, but then again why would I refuse her after she had just saved my life?

"Right, come on," I nodded.

We made our way back onto a street where more Road Ragers stood in our way, charging towards the fortifications in spite of the guns being used against them. They were truly out of their minds and I observed one raider armed with combat knife making a charge towards me, frothing from the mouth like a rabid dog. He didn't stop even as I raised my gun and took aim, nor did he seem to register the first bullet striking him in the shoulder, nor the second colliding with his stomach. It wasn't until my third round found its way into his forehead that he finally halted.

Next to me more glowing red arcs cut through the wider street as Flo returned fire with her laser rifle, and that weird, loud 'toot-toot' noise left me wincing every time Harry squeezed his rifle's trigger, sending more of those mangy bastards to the ground with rusty railroad spikes sticking out of their bodies.

Our brave stand appeared to be having an effect on the citizens as they began making bold strides out into the open and were dropping the raiders at a quicker pace, forcing them on the defensive as we neared the end of the street.

And then there was that deafening blast of the semi's horn as the behemoth came charging into view.

"Damn it, not again," I grumbled as I watched the metal beast plow through everything in its way. We would be next if we didn't act fast and the whistle sounded again as Harry fired upon the approaching big rig, yet his custom-made rifle's rate of fire was too slow and we were about to eat the metal grill as the horn blared again.

And then there was another rattle of automatic fire from above us and the truck diverted from its course, running over a lone Rager and plowing through a few vendor booths, some fortifications, and a Brahmin pen before it crashed into one of the city's walls and got stuck. We looked up to see Andy leaping down from one of the bungalow rooftops and come running towards us.

"Figured I'd run into you sooner or later," the scout said before stopping to gun down another Road Rager, "Come on. We don't have time to hang around here."

"We were heading towards Doc Graham's house. Lucy wants me to check up on him," I shouted back before two more bikers sped into view, only to fall before our combined counterattack.

"Well then let's get moving," he shouted back and took point while we followed behind, the four of us firing in all directions and managing to drop a few other Road Ragers in the process, including me dropping a raider who had ensnared a small child with a rope net.

It wasn't too long before we were on the dirt road where the Graham house could be seen on the hilltop, its front door kicked in, all of its windows broken, and fresh blood splashed on the exterior. My blood chilled at the sight and I broke into a run, ignoring the cries of my companions as I pushed through the gate and ran up the incline, my only concern being for the good doctor's well being as I pushed through the splintered front door.

My mind raced as I looked around the ransacked hallway for signs of life, halting when I heard a muffled cry from the operating room. I raised my pistol to act, but was cut off by a hulking figure grinning down upon me.

"Well look what we got here," the giant hissed, licking his lips in anticipation as he raised a sharpened _'One Way'_ sign and swung it towards me sideways.

The only action I could take was to throw myself to the floor and the sharpened sign became embedded in the wall, finding myself blinded as dust and plaster rained down upon me.

"You're...gonna...die!" the giant shouted as he struggled to free his makeshift battle axe from the wall while I tried to blink the dust out of my eyes and I cried out in pain as I felt a sudden burning sensation tear through my left arm.

"Really gotta watch yourself, tough guy," another raider spoke with a smoking revolver in hand before the giant gave up on his makeshift axe and picked me up by my backpack's straps, tossing me against the walls like a rag doll before I found myself flying through the living room and landing on the coffee table with a loud crash.

A fresh wave of pain shot down my spine and I screamed in pain as my muscles burned inside of me, so caught up in the agony I didn't register the big man grabbing me by my ankles and dragging me across the hall into the operating room.

"Good news, old man, you won't be dying alone tonight!" the pistol-toting Rager quipped and I looked over to see a battered and bloodied Doc Graham lying next to me, still struggling to crawl away from his abusers.

"And just where do you think you're going?" a heavily-tattooed woman asked before stomping on his lower back, causing him to cry out in anguish.

"Leave him alone!" I spat through gritted teeth.

"You shut your fucking hole, tough guy," the behemoth shouted before delivering a backhand that came within inches of dislocating my jaw, "You're next!"

My body trembled beneath the enveloping pain and I wanted to curl up in a ball right there as things grew grimmer by the second. These maniacs were going to murder the poor doctor and were going to force me to watch as I was lifted up and onto my knees while a grimy woman pulled out a switchblade and playfully traced it along the old man's bruised flesh. She enjoyed doing things like this, a soft moan escaping her mouth as she slowly sliced into his cheek and let a trail of blood stain the wrinkled surface.

The sickening sight caused my muscles to tighten and my hands balled into fists as I felt the burning sensation overtaking me...one of pure, unbridled rage.

I spat out a mouthful of blood before looking up to the woman and furrowing my brow, "You really need to let him go," I spoke, my words coming out slow and my tone lowering to a cool confidence.

A raucous laughter followed and I found myself shoved face first into the wooden floor with a heavy boot on my upper back.

"Ha! You oughta' be one to talk, little man!" the giant chuckled before applying pressure, "Oh boy, I can tell I'm gonna enjoy squashing your head like a bug."

"You're right, someone's about to die," I replied.

I don't know what came over me, but somehow I had rolled over onto my back and drove my boot into the giant's groin before drawing my machete and pushing myself back to my feet, swinging the blade into the gunman's gut and tearing out a chunk of his intestines before finishing him off with a backhanded swing that nearly severed his lower jaw. My focus then turned to the woman, whose eyes had widened in horror and was now backing away from me, only to fall after being stricken by a blast from Flo's laser rifle.

Heavy footfalls told me the giant was rising back to his feet and I whirled around to see the pissed off look in his eyes, ready to break me in half. I wasn't deterred and I swung the machete into his exposed side and began sawing with the jagged blade, spraying his blood all over and causing him to scream in agony.

"Who's talking big now?" I hissed to the giant before bringing the blade down onto his collarbone with a deep, wet slash that sent more blood spraying all over and left him falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

I stood over him with the bloody machete dangling in my hand, the sudden rush of adrenaline ebbing slowly from my system and my breath suddenly getting heavier. Did I really just do that? Had I morphed into a killing machine at the drop of a hat? The way those psychotic raiders fell was surprising even to me.

What the hell am I?

I looked up to see Flo standing in the doorway staring at me, unable to tell if that was fear or admiration etched into her features. For all I know it could have been both.

"Seventy-Two?" I heard the weak voice of the good doctor murmur from below and looked down to find him grasping my pant leg. It was enough to snap Flo out of her trance and she ran over.

"Help me with him," she ordered grabbing his arm and draping it over her shoulder. With a quick nod I knelt down and wrapped his other arm around me and we helped him into the living room where we sat him down on the couch.

"Oh my god...Lucy, is she alright?" Graham asked while Flo tried to keep him upright.

"She's fine. She sent me over here to make sure you were alright," I said rising to my feet and looking over to Flo, "We'd better get him patched up and go check on the others."

"Wait...you've been shot!" the old man said shooting a finger towards me.

I suddenly remembered that burning sensation in my left arm from just minutes earlier and looked down at the bullet wound in my bicep. The sudden realization caused the pain of me being flung onto the now broken coffee table to come back as well and with another pained groan I sunk into the doctor's armchair.

Doc Graham saw my pain and even in his battered state tried to reach out and help, but was halted by Flo.

"I've got this," she said reaching for my pack, "Please tell me you've got a Stimpak in here."

"I have two left. Please, just do whatever you have to," I groaned slinking further into the comfy chair.

The battle was still raging outside and we jumped collectively as a large explosion rocked the ground close to the Graham house.

"Just hurry up!" I snapped at her through gritted teeth.

The stylist grabbed a Stimpak and stuck the needle in my bullet wound, causing me to wince and squeeze the arms before she depressed the plunger. The effects were almost immediate as I felt a cool wave moving down my arm and could see the wound cauterizing within seconds.

My arm was feeling better, but the rest of my body still felt sore and I could hear the sounds of battle drawing even closer. It would only be a matter of time before more of those raiders came barging in and I knew I wouldn't be able to handle them in this sorry state.

But then I remembered that bottle of Buffout and I pulled it out of the pack and popped the lid to find only one green pill left.

"Be careful with that. Buffout can be highly addictive if you aren't careful," Doc spoke before another sharp pain left him clutching his side.

"Thanks for the advice, Doc, but right now I don't think I have much of a choice," I replied as I could overpowering stench of smoke wafting in through the broken windows. I shoved the pill into my mouth and then used some water to wash it down.

The Buffout's effects weren't as instant as the Stimpak's, but I could feel my strength returning to me and the pain starting to subside. Hell, I was feeling like I could go toe to toe with a freight train, that's how amped up I was feeling!

"Hey Dumpster, you in here?" a voice called from outside, leaving Flo raising her rifle and me grabbing Doc and pulling him for cover behind the couch.

"Get that bitch!" the Rager called out, but Flo proved quicker and fired a blast that disintegrated the intruder.

He didn't come alone as three more Ragers piled in through the narrow hallway, shouting their murderous intentions as they caught sight of us.

"Jesus, how many of these fuck stains are there?" Flo shouted before firing another blast before overturning the couch for cover.

I had no time to answer her question as I was forced to leap backwards to avoid a swing from a very large pickax, the owner cursing up a blue streak when the pick became stuck in the wooden floor and he charged ready to strangle me, but I shot my foot out and kicked his leg out from beneath him, then bringing my machete down and splitting him open from his hairline down to the bridge of his nose.

More red laser beams knifed through the cramped quarters as Flo tried holding off the other two Ragers, managing to drop one of them, yet the other had somehow snaked past her defenses and was ready to slice her throat open, but I sneaked up on the guy and grabbed the leather straps that held his shoulder pads in place, bringing the blade down not once, but three times before managing to sever his head.

A panicked cry snapped me out of my trance and I looked down to see Flo on her knees with the raider's blood staining her dress and then I looked over to see Doc Graham staring at me in horror at what I had just done.

Even I could only stop and stare at the bloodied blade I held in my hand.

Was this a learned skill coming back to me?

The good doctor told me things would come back in due time, but so far I only see some very brutal skills returning. Then again, maybe it's just the current circumstances forcing me to relearn what does matter. I can't really be this bad, can I?

More heavy gunfire sounded from outside the house and Flo managed to shake the cobwebs away and rush forth with her rifle drawn and I chased after her, hit by another wall of smoke as we looked over to see a nearby house completely engulfed and one of the occupants taking cover behind a stone wall and firing upon Road Ragers while his wife was struggling to get a Sleipnir out of a nearby stall before the small building could catch fire. The crackle of a rifle kept us ducking low and we were finally able to make out Andy after he leaped over another low wall for cover, while the distinctive whistle of Harry's homemade rifle told us he was still alive.

"Give it up, losers! This shit hole is gonna burn!" a Road Rager laughed maniacally before tossing a belt lined with fragmentation grenades that sent a few remaining defenders scattering before another series of explosions rang out.

I had taken cover behind the same wall as Andy and could hear him muttering, "Come on, Seth. Any minute now like you promised."

A loud crash came from nearby as the garage door of Seth's Garage was knocked off its hinges and a massive armor-plated robot with a vaguely humanoid torso and mecanum wheels mounted to its three legs came rolling into view, its 'eyes' flashing red as it took notice of the remaining Road Ragers.

" **HOSTILE TARGET DETECTED!** " the bot bellowed in a tinny authoritative voice before I could hear the whir of machinery, " **COMMENCING NEUTRALIZATION!** "

I quickly found out what was going on as a minigun built into the bot's right arm began spitting out high-caliber rounds, tearing through a wave of charging Ragers like a hot knife through butter. I could barely anything over the ear-splitting rattle of the sentry bot's gun, but I could see another car come barreling around the corner, only to eat a cluster of rounds and go spinning out of control and crashing into another small house, resulting in a blast that sent a small mushroom cloud billowing into the night sky.

"Well shit, that must've been the 'top secret project' Seth said he'd been working on all this time," Flo shouted next to me before rising to fire another blast at an unseen enemy.

It had only been a few seconds, but the massive robot was quickly turning the tide in favor of the Rodeo Plaza residents and they were cheering wildly as the mobile death machine made its trek along the dirt road, only to be halted as a missile struck the ground in front of it and sent the robot falling onto its side, still barking out commands and spinning its wheels while its left arm spoke of wanting to fire a non-existent missile of its own. Andy was on hand to 'avenge' the fallen metal warrior with a barrage that dropped the rocket launcher thug.

"Hey look, it's working! They're taking off!" one of the locals shouted as we could see a small group of grubby raiders piling into the back of a pickup truck and speeding away.

"That's right, get the fuck outta here you fucking murdering bastards!" another citizen shouted extending his middle finger to the retreating raiders.

Similar gestures followed as the defenders stepped out from behind cover and other locals emerged from their homes, a Pyrrhic victory for those who dared to fight.

"Are you guys alright?" Andy asked rushing over to me, Flo and Harry.

"We're fine," Flo answered before looking down to her bloodied dress, "but there's a lot of hurting people around," she said gesturing towards a man who writhed on the ground with shrapnel sticking out of his leg and both she and Harry ran over to tend to him while I looked over to see both Gus and Ruby walking towards us.

"Ruby, why aren't you with Lucy and the others?" I asked, remembering how she had elected to stay behind and help protect the her, Eli and the other survivors holed up in that house.

"Those damned Road Ragers firebombed us. I managed to get Eli and the kids out, but I got separated from Lucy and the old lady. I don't know what happened to them after that," she replied hanging her head in shame.

"Wait, do you hear that?" Andy cut in raising his hand.

We followed after him as he crept into a nearby building with its front door torn off the hinges and found a raider lying face down with a muffled hiss coming from beneath him. Andy stepped forth and carefully prodded the man with his boot before mustering the strength to turn him over and find the walkie-talkie he had been covering.

 _"Hey Brushy, you still there? Come in, man!"_ we heard a voice calling out, that same raider who led the charge – Bumper, I believe they called him.

 _"You still there? Answer me you lazy bastard!"_ the man shouted before Andy picked up the radio and pushed the transmit button.

"Your friend can't make it right now, so you're gonna be talking to me, you sick bastard," the scout spat, the venom in his words plain as day.

There was a brief pause before the raider answered, _"And just whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? Wait – it don't matter, you're all gonna be dead anyway!"_

"You just shut the fuck up, buddy. We're gonna find you and we're gonna send all you sons of bitches to Hell!" Andy shouted into the radio, only to be met by more harsh laughter.

 _"I wouldn't get too cocky if I were you, little man,"_ Bumper said as his laughter slowed to a deep chuckle, _"We got some of your people here and I don't think they're gonna like it too much if your Johnson keeps getting too big for your britches. Go on honey, tell 'em your names."_

 _"Lucy,"_ the young woman spoke before being abruptly cut off.

 _"Oh god, Andy! It's Stanzi! You gotta help –"_ she shouted before being cut off by a hard slap.

 _"That's right, we got ourselves some prime time pussy here! Don't we boys?"_ the biker laughed.

I watched as Andy's skin turned beet red and his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

"Don't you dare fucking touch those women! You hear me, don't you fucking dare you fucking asshole! I'll rip your goddamned fucking head off you sick bastard!" Andy shouted back at him, gripping the handheld device so hard I swore he was going to break it.

 _"Well then I guess you're never gonna see them again,"_ Bumper chuckled as the two women cried out in the background, _"but perhaps there can be a trade if certain conditions are met."_

Andy offered no reply, seething in anger the whole time.

 _"Sure, you may have gone and killed a few of my brothers and all, but I'm a fair man and I'll tell you what, you give us what we want and I'll give you what you want,"_ Bumper continued.

Again Andy was silent while the three of us exchanged nervous glances before the biker cleared his throat and spoke.

 _"We know you have a certain shit stain by the name of Crockett. One of our boys saw you taking him in after you saved him from those ferals. That rat bastard killed our brother Johnny and we want his ass on a silver platter. You give us Crockett and we give you back your girls. You don't got him, well I don't think your girlfriend will like what we have to do afterward. You got 24 hours to hand his bitch ass over...or else."_

The line went dead and Andy threw the walkie-talkie against the wall, breaking it into tiny pieces.

"Those goddamned motherfuckers!" he shouted grabbing a lamp and tossing it across the room and then overturning a desk before Gus ran over and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Get a hold of yourself! I know we're in deep shit here, but you've gotta calm down, son!" Gus shouted in Andy's face.

"How the fuck can I calm down?" the scout said shaking himself free from Gus' grasp, "We have to get the girls back or else those sick bastards are going to do who the hell knows what to them!"

"He's right," Ruby said stepping in, "I know how those types are. Sure, they're promising they'll return the girls if you hand over Crockett, but they're just blowing smoke out their asses. I don't even wanna think of what they're gonna do and we gotta act fast."

"Well we can't just run after them right now. We've lost a lot of good people and we've got plenty more out there hurt and dying. Those bastards really caught us with our pants down and going after them right now would be damned suicidal!" Gus shouted back to the sheriff before slowing down and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. "We need to regroup."

"But we don't have much time left!" Andy protested, "Who knows how long it's gonna be before we they're raping them and cutting them up!"

While Gus, Ruby and Andy argued among themselves I looked out the window and caught sight of a small, lithe figure darting in the opposite direction. The wild red hair was a dead giveaway and I made my way back outside.

"Hey!" I shouted and Crockett whirled around to face me, his eyes growing wide in horror before he let out a surprised yelp and almost tripped over his own two feet before turning on his heel and breaking into a sprint.

"Get back here!" I called and quickly weaved my way around a man who had been dragging a wounded local to safety before chasing after him.

Crockett ignored my cries and continued down the street, stopping to knock over a stack of wooden crates before pulling himself over a vendor's table and taking a sharp right.

I barely avoided the falling crates before I too ran up and pulled myself over the table and took a right where I was forced to hug the wall when coming across a woman tending to a fallen man, and then into a sudden leap as I found another fellow who was recovering after being knocked to the ground. All I had to do was follow the angry shouts and frightened cries of more citizens before I made my way onto the street where Crockett still ran ahead of me and managed to squeeze past one of the truck's driven by a Road Rager, now having crashed into the side of a building with its front tires shot out.

There was no way I was going to let that little fink escape me and I continued my dogged pursuit (stopping only to apologize to a few of the baffled locals), bobbing and weaving my way around the aftermath of a bloody onslaught until I saw him approaching the broken gates.

He was going to be home free and all would be lost – until an escaped Brahmin stepped into view and he collided with its bulky frame.

The two-headed bovine's timing couldn't have been any more impeccable as I could feel my lungs threatening to explode on me. There the weaselly punk lay with the wind knocked out of him, his eyes widening as he caught sight of me and trying to crawl away from me, but I pinned him down to the ground and pinned his arms behind his back.

"You aren't going anywhere!" I huffed as he struggled beneath my grasp.

"Aw c'mon, man! I didn't do anything to you!" he shouted still trying to get away, but I ignored his protests and pulled him back to his feet, only to find myself shoved aside and the shifty fellow knocked back to the ground by a hard punch from Andy.

"You son of a fucking bitch!" Andy screamed as he mounted the little man and rained down a flurry of fists upon his face, "I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

"Whoa, whoa Andy get off him!" Gus called out as he tried to pull the enraged scout off of Crockett, only to eat an elbow for his troubles. Other survivors saw what was happening and ran over to subdue Andy, taking six men to do so before they managed to pull him off.

"You son of a fucking bitch! You have any idea how many friends I lost because of you?!" he howled as a woman ran up to tend to the down Crockett, his face a bruised and bloodied mess with one of his cheeks puffed to unreal proportions and his right eye swollen shut, "We should've let those ferals tear your slimy ass apart!"

"Now that'll be enough outta you!" Gus shouted getting in front of Andy, "You need to calm down at once!" he boomed with enough force to silence the maddened scout and make a few of the onlookers step back in surprise.

"Now look, I know you're angry and worried about Stanzi. I am too. I want to get her back just as badly as you do and make those bastards pay for everything they've done, but right now we are in no position to fight. We need to regroup and we need to be in calm spirits when we do what we can to get those girls back," Gus spoke before placing an assuring hand on his shoulder, "We _will_ get them back."

Andy swallowed hard and nodded to the proprietor before stepping back to cool off, but things weren't over as Gus turned to address Crockett, who had now been helped back to his feet.

"And you aren't going anywhere. You have some explaining of your own," Gus said walking over and towering over the red-haired fellow, "Now start talking!"

"But...but I-I-I don't know wh-what to talk about!" the skittish man gasped as his eyes darted back and forth, his words slightly slurred by his bloodied bottom lip.

"Don't get cute with me, boy. You know what this is about. Where have you been all this time?" Gus demanded, causing the people who had been helping Crockett to step back.

Crockett was forced to spit out a mouthful of blood before he managed a reply, "Um, I've...uh...I've been...uh, around y'know," he replied while looking around for some means of escape.

"A group of raiders just came tearing through here looking for you and look what happened," Gus said motioning to their devastated surroundings, "All because of you!"

Crockett was at a loss for words and was trembling uncontrollably as the proprietor narrowed his dark eyes at him, a hateful glare showering him with daggers, something out of character for the genial businessman.

"You're so badass, huh? You killed a big raider in a fight, didn't you?" Ruby asked stepping in, her tone growing more menacing, "I think you're full of shit, right everybody?" she asked the gathered citizens, all of whom nodded or spoke their agreement.

"No!" Crockett blurted out before looking into her eyes and sighing in defeat, "Alright, I didn't kill him in battle."

The drifter looked to the ground in shame as he explained himself, "I was out and about looking for anything I could scrounge up for some caps and I found him passed out in a trailer outside the Shooting Star Drive-In. I recognized his face from a wanted poster and needed the caps, so I took his machete and...well you know the rest..."

"You fucking coward," Andy hissed from a distance. I could tell he was struggling to hold back from repeating the brutal beat down he carried out just seconds earlier, yet somehow he held back and let the bitterness of his tone do the work for him.

"People are fucking dead because of you and two women have been kidnapped. You better give me a damned good reason I don't fucking kill you myself," he growled, Gus and Ruby looking on nervously when they saw how close his hand was to his gun.

Crockett's skin was white as a sheet and a wet spot appeared on the crotch of his pants as he quivered nonstop, "H-Hey! Now hey, lo-lo-look here...you...you don't wanna go doing anything st-stupid!" he stammered raising his hands in front of his face.

"And you haven't done something stupid already?" Ruby asked rolling her eyes.

"Let's cut the crap. We might as well just hand him over right now, save ourselves the trouble," Andy said drawing his 9mm before Gus again stepped in front of him.

"There's been enough bloodshed here for one night," the motel proprietor spoke before turning to Ted and another inhabitant, "Take him and get him cleaned up. Once that's done, put him over in the old pump station until we figure out what to do with him."

"Wait, what?" Crockett gasped until Ted shoved him along.

"Move your ass, pipsqueak!" the old gunsmith spat.

Once they were out of sight Gus stepped up to Andy, "He'd just be a wasted bullet. He's not worth your time."

"But Gus, do you have any idea what that son of a bitch just caused?" Andy asked incredulously, "We'd be doing a lot of people here a favor if we just put this bastard out of his misery right here, right now!"

Andy rubbed at his throbbing temples before kicking over an empty oil drum, "Goddamn, I'm so fucking stupid! I should've just left him to rot out there. I knew there was something fishy about him," he said looking over to me.

"Fucking hell Andy, you just had to go and be a fucking boy scout, didn't you? Now Ralphie and the guys are dead and we'll probably have two other deaths on our hands if we keep standing around here with our thumbs up our asses," he muttered to himself.

"Hey, you did what you thought was right," Ruby said walking over to him, "You know firsthand how crazy things are out there. You didn't want to see someone else end up dying out there," she finished while placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"She's right. You can never tell how things are going to turn out in the end," Gus stepped in, "There are things out there nobody should ever have to go through, things you wouldn't even wish upon your worst enemy. You probably thought the same thing when you first found him, even with your suspicions. The important thing is you can't just sit here and beat yourself up over it, or else those freaks will win in the end."

Andy stared silently at Gus until the older man placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, you've had a long night. We can make plans for later, but right now you need your rest," he said leading the scout away, leaving Ruby and I surveying the aftermath of the brutal onslaught.

Houses were left smoldering ruins, small businesses were destroyed, farm animals had escaped their enclosures and were running free, bodies were left out in the open with widows and children grieving over them while survivors were covering them with sheets, tarpaulins and anything else they could find to protect them from the elements, as well as to give them some form of dignity until they could receive proper burials.

"This isn't the first time I've seen stuff like this and believe me it never gets easier," Ruby said next to me.

I just stared ahead into the pyre before me, entranced by the orange glow. Was it shock? Was it a morbid wonder? I didn't know. I just stood there staring into the all consuming abyss, wondering if this was to be my destiny and furthermore, if my life had been anything like this before I lost my memory.

And then there was the cry of that little girl, that same cry that pushed me into shooting that masked raider dead.

"Seventy-Two, are you alright?" Ruby asked.

I opened my eyes (unaware I had even shut them to begin with) and looked over to the law woman, who quietly sized me up before speaking.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." I muttered, wincing at the sudden pain in my jaw and cheeks, "...I'm fine."

I took one last look at the burning building before looking back to the sheriff, "I've had a long day. That's all."

"We've all had a long day," Ruby nodded before gesturing to the motel, "Why don't you go and get some sleep. We're about to have another long day ahead of us, always best to meet it with a clearer head."

"Sure thing. I guess I'll talk to you later," I replied before making my way towards the motel.


End file.
